


Dark Water

by xenascully



Category: NCIS
Genre: Gen, Hurt Tony, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-23
Updated: 2010-04-23
Packaged: 2018-01-18 02:32:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 46,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1411696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenascully/pseuds/xenascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An accident could claim the life of a member of the team...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS or its characters...but I like to play with them :)

"Where the hell is DiNozzo?" Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs said as he checked his rear view mirror for the hundredth time since they left to return from an investigation in Western Maryland.

"He left the same time we did," Agent Timothy McGee replied. "Can't be too far behind, but I'll call him."

"Perhaps one of us should have ridden with him," Agent Ziva David said from the back seat. "It is snowing, and he may have taken a wrong turn."

"What is it, Probie?" Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo said over speaker.

"Just tryin' to figure out how far behind us you are?" McGee replied.

"Well, if the damn heat worked in this piece of crap-"

"We passed over the Glendale bridge a couple minutes ago," Gibbs said. "Where are you?"

"Hey, Boss... Didn't realize I was on speaker...uhhhh... looks like I'm comin' up on the bridge here in a sec."

"Well, step on it and catch up. I wanna get home some time tonight."

"On it, B- oh...shit!" The three team members were all stunned into silence at the sound of screeching tires and metal hitting metal... Then silence...

Gibbs slammed the breaks, bringing the vehicle to a stop, "DiNozzo?" he shouted. The sound of labored breathing was all that could be heard.

"Tony, are you okay?" McGee asked as he strained to listen.

"I ca- can't reach the phone, guys-" his voice sounded far away.

"What happened?" Gibbs asked as he made a speedy U-turn in the road and headed in the opposite direction.

"Think I hit a deer," he said with labored breath. "Then...I think I hit a rail..."

"Are you hurt?" Ziva asked.

"I dunno...my head hurts." That's when they started to hear a loud creaking sound over the line. "Oh...oh shit..." Tony's voice was riddled with sudden panic. "I'm hangin' off the bridge here...shit!" The creaking got louder, as did Tony's breathing.

"We're comin', Tony," Gibbs said as he heard Ziva on her phone calling for paramedics. Suddenly the speaker phone made a horrific screeching sound...then the line went dead...

An eery silence fell over the agents; the only sound, coming from the revving of the engine as Gibbs plowed toward the bridge. McGee frantically redialed Tony's number, which went straight to voice mail.

Within moments, they pulled up to the bridge, seeing the destroyed section of railing, and a bloodied carcass of a deer in the middle of the bridge. Gibbs put the car in park and left the headlights on to light up what it could of the dark, cold night. The snow had stopped falling, but the chill was still blowing in the air as they exited the car and quickly made their way to the rail...


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I'm new to posting here and haven't quite figured out how to keep my formatting. Sorry if any of this ends up confusing because italics didn't come through...

"Tony!" Ziva shouted into the darkness below. McGee did the same, and neither received a reply. Gibbs moved toward the broken rail and threw off his jacket and began pulling off his shoes. "What are you doing?" Ziva asked, already knowing the answer. "That water is freezing!"

"I'm not leavin' him in there!" Gibbs yelled as he pulled at his other shoe. "You two grab whatever you can from the car; first aid, dry clothes...whatever you can find, and bring it down. Walk down the side!" he said before jumping off of the bridge into the freezing, dark water below. They watched him until he resurfaced, cursing at the cold temperature, then shared a quick glance before following his instructions...

*~.~*

Gibbs pulled out his water-proof flashlight from the grappling hook key chain at his pants-loop, silently thanking the heavens he'd had it in the first place, and dove under the water with it between his teeth, lighting his path as he made his way to the car. The lake wasn't very deep, but the car was fully submerged, and he could see Tony's arm in the driver side window.

The water was chilling; Gibbs was barely able to keep moving, but for the adrenaline that coursed through his body. He reached the door quickly, grateful that it opened with ease. He grabbed Tony's head, turning it to face him. Tony's eyes were open, but his gaze was distant...Gibbs flinched, then grabbed him under the shoulder and tugged him from the car. Up...up...and to the surface.

Gibbs sucked in the cold air and coughed at the pain it brought. The flashlight fell into the water as he scrambled toward land with Tony in tow. Somehow he managed to reach it, pulling with all his might to get Tony completely out of the water. He reached out to feel for a pulse as he caught his breath. Finding none, he panicked.

Gibbs tore open the soaked jacket and began chest compressions; counting and he silently prayed. "Come on, Tony!" he yelled before reaching over to pinch the agent's nose closed and blow air into his lungs. Two puffs, then back to compressions.

He looked away only to see where his other agents were, seeing them descending the hill from a distance. It would probably be a few minutes before they'd reach him. He turned his attention back to his unresponsive agent. "God...please..." He could barely feel his own fingers anymore, but there was no way he'd stop. DiNozzo had done this for him...he wasn't going to let him down.

Gibbs breathed for him again, returning quickly to the compressions; his shoulders screaming with chilling pain. "Come on!" he yelled, tears stinging his eyes. "That's an order!" his voice cracked.

Tony's eyes suddenly closed; his head rolling slightly to the side. "That's it, Tony..." Gibbs said as Tony began to cough, vomiting up the water from his lungs. Gibbs pulled him more upright to assist him; prying the cold, soaked jacket from his body as he saw the light from Ziva's flashlight coming up behind them.

He couldn't tell who was shaking more; him or Tony. But he held him tightly, his back against his chest as he waited for his agents to reach them. "Boss!" McGee reached them first, skidding onto his knees beside them. "Ambulance is on its way. You gotta get out of those wet clothes," he told him.

"You take care of DiNozzo, first," he said through chattering teeth. Ziva was in front of Gibbs a moment later as Tim tore Tony's shirt from him, then took off his own coat and put it on Tony, zipping it and closing the hood over his head. He held the unconscious agent against his own chest as Ziva tried to instruct Gibbs. But their boss was shaking from the cold and unable to remove his shirt successfully.

Ziva decided to do it herself, pulling it from him in one swift motion and securing Gibbs' coat she'd brought down from the bridge, back onto its owner. He looked back over at Tony and saw McGee pulling off the wet socks and shoes from his feet, then taking off his own shoes and fitting them onto Tony's feet as best he could. After a moment, he realized Ziva had pulled off his own socks and had slipped on the shoes he'd taken off on the bridge.

"Tony?" they turned to McGee's voice as he realized the agent was, once again, not breathing. "Hey!" he tapped Tony's face; fear gripping hold of him again before he laid the agent back down on the ground, feeling for a pulse.

"H- he was j-just..." Gibbs tried to speak, but the cold had taken him over. Ziva held him tighter, trying to warm him, or perhaps out of fear at Tony's current state. Tim was doing chest compressions on Tony now. His desperation was clearly evident on his face as he worked.

It seemed like a lifetime later when his face was lit up by the flashing red and white lights from the ambulance that pulled up alongside the lake. But Tony was still unresponsive...

"I'm fine!" Gibbs shouted to the paramedics as his body still shook, "You help him!" Tony was on the gurney in the ambulance as Gibbs was as far back out of the way as possible, wrapped in blankets to warm his body. But he still shook...they were still performing CPR as another paramedic frantically tried to dry the agent off. They needed to shock him; get his heart going on its own... But they couldn't do it while he was still wet.

Looking at Tony now, his skin an eerily familiar shade of blue...one he'd seen on him years ago in an isolation room, Gibbs' heart ached in his chest. He wasn't breathing, but for the device they were forcing air into him with.

Gibbs closed his eyes, allowing the shaking to overcome him; make him warm... "Please...please please..." he prayed...begged anyone that was out there... He heard the driver spit information into the radio.

"Garrett County Memorial, we have incoming drowning victim; hypothermic at 34 degrees Celsius; no heart rhythm; no breath sounds. CPR after being pulled, had heart rhythm and breath sounds for short amount of time. Cardiac arrest shortly before we arrived; CPR being administrated..." the sound of the driver's voice drifted off... Gibbs' heart pounded in his ears...

"Clear!" The sound from the paddles forced Gibbs' eyes open. The monitor picked up a beat...two...then flat-lined again. The sound of charging paddles filled the small space, "Clear!" they hit him again...nothing...

Gibbs closed his eyes, an unashamed tear cascading down his cheek...they were losing him...

Drowning is a weird sensation...terrifying really... But here I am, in this place that seems empty, but strangely inviting. And I hear a familiar voice...

"DiNozzo," it's Jenny...Jenny Shepard. I turn around and there she is in front of me.

"Hey," I flash a grin at her. She seems the same as I'd last seen her. Well...last I'd seen her alive, anyway. "So I guess I'm dead."

"You're not supposed to be," she smirked. "What'd you think when you swerved to try and miss that deer?"

I laugh at her comment, "Well it was kind of a split-second decision, Director. Didn't think I'd end up dead."

"I'm not the director anymore, Tony." I can tell she senses my guilt as her smile fades and she places a hand on my arm. "You still carry it around, don't you?" My eyes shift away from her for a moment before settling back on her. "You have to stop."

"I should've been there, Jen. I could've helped you."

"You would've died," she tells me. "It wasn't your time. This isn't either."

"I'm sorry," I tell her as I start to feel an dull ache in my chest.

"No, Tony, I am sorry. It wasn't your burden to bear..."

"Come on! That's an order!" I hear Gibbs' voice, and the ache in my chest becomes more painful... "That's it, Tony..." Drowning is weird...coming back is even more strange. I feel myself cough up water, sucking in air and coughing again. It's a familiar feeling, unfortunately. It's terrifying, really.

My body feels like pins and needles, and I can barely move other then the involuntary shaking from what I can only explain as cold. I feel my clothes torn from my arms, and something numbing cover where my shirt once was. Then I feel myself being held. I see Gibbs...he's shaking too. What happened?

A new pain suddenly bursts in my chest, and I can't even react...the world around me gets darker and darker...and suddenly I'm back. Back in the inviting void. But I don't see Jenny anymore. That really kinda pisses me off, because I had a question for her...

"Trying to get time off again, Tony?" I hear Kate, and I spin around to see her standing there with a smug little grin on her face.

"Lemme guess, you're gonna tell me it's not my time."

"As much as I'd love to keep you around, the world isn't ready to go on without you, DiNozzo."

"I'll take that as a compliment," I give her one of my best grins. "So, anymore words of wisdom? Or am I cashing in on all of my 'get-out-of-jail-free' cards every time I come back here?"

"I'm just here to make sure you don't get any 'wise' ideas," she tells me.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Can't really tell you, if you plan on going back, Tony. All I can say is, you can't come with me. You gotta go back."

"Gladly, Kate. If you'd point me in the right direction, I'd be happy to-"

"I can't...direct you. You've just gotta wait."

"Well where's the fun it that?"

"Well for starters," she grins at me, then holds up both pointer fingers in front of me. "This!" she pokes me with both fingers in my chest an I feel this horrible jolt.

"Hey! Ow!"

"I'm not really doing anything," she says, and does it again!

"Kate! That hurts!"

"Oh this is nothing...but you'll feel better soon..." she pokes me once more, and suddenly I'm overcome with bright light...

"We've got a rhythm," the paramedic said, and Gibbs opened his eyes to the slow heart beat on the monitor. Then he looked at Tony, who suddenly was gasping for air, coughing, and obviously struggling to breathe. Tony painfully pulled himself to sit up as he coughed pathetically against the pain in his chest; fluid dripped from his mouth as he gagged. "We need to CPAP," the paramedic indicated to his partner. "Fluid in the lungs. Agent DiNozzo," the man attempted to get Tony's attention.

But Tony's eyes remained closed against his struggle. "You're having trouble breathing because your heart's not pumping well enough right now, and fluid is backing up into your lungs," the medic explained. "I'm going to put this mask on your face to help push air into your lungs and push the fluid out. It'll feel strange at first, but you'll see it'll help you breathe a lot easier," he fit the mask over Tony's face, and immediately, Tony began to panic; flailing and shaking from the pain that took over his body. "Just relax and take deep breaths..." the medic tried, but Tony's struggle continued.

Gibbs moved from his seat and to Tony's side, grasping one of his flailing wrists, "Tony!" he said loud enough for him to here. "Calm down. Just breathe," he told him gently, and Tony's eyes opened at the unmistakable voice beside him. Though his eyes were unfocused and distant, Tony seemed to calm when he realized his boss's presence.

Gibbs breathed in deep, as if demonstrating what Tony should be doing, and Tony mimicked him, but was followed up by another fit of coughing. His wrist twisted in Gibbs' hand, and his hand clamped down on Gibbs'. Gibbs realized how icy cold Tony's hands still were, and the blue tint at the tips of the agent's fingernails. He heard Tony breathe deep again, and looked up at him just as his eyes started to roll back in his head. Tony became suddenly limp, and the medics held him up the best they could as he drifted back into unconsciousness.

He felt the ambulance come to a halt, and the doors behind him hurriedly opened. He moved out of the way, helped out of the back before they pulled Tony's gurney out of the vehicle and set the wheels out onto the ground.

"Temperature has barely increased," the medic told the E.R doctor that walked quickly beside them as they made their way toward the hospital entrance. "He's got a slow heart rate, low BP, fluid in the lungs."

"We need to start extracorporeal circulation," was the last thing Gibbs heard the doctor say, before he, himself was whisked away by another set of nurses.

"Hey, I'm fine!" Gibbs barked. "I just need some dry clothes. I'll be fine. Go take care of him!"

"Sir, he is in capable hands. But we need to check you out. We were told you went into Deep Creek Lake to save that man's life. That water was frozen yesterday; I'm amazed you were able to get yourself out, let alone another person."

"Gibbs!" his head turned to the voice of Ziva David and saw her and McGee as they entered the hospital hurriedly.

"You okay, Boss?" McGee asked as they approached him.

"I'm okay," Gibbs said, wavering a bit in his stance, and the nurse caught his arm.

"Your heroism is admirable," she said, "But do me a favor and stop refusing treatment. You could have some serious problems if something is wrong and you ignore it." As his vision seemed to unfocus a bit, he looked at McGee.

"Call Duck. Tell him what happened and get him here..." he said, then allowed himself to be lead away by the nurse.

"What about Tony?" Tim asked no one in particular. Then he looked at Ziva; questions in both their eyes, that neither had answers to... He turned and opened his phone to dial Ducky.

The emergency waiting room was relatively quiet, which seemed all the more agitating as Ziva and Tim periodically stood and paced in turns. It had been two hours...no word about either agent, and patience was growing thin. "What's taking so long?" McGee stopped mid-pace and turned to Ziva.

"I do not know, McGee," she replied and stood. "Perhaps you should get something to drink. Coffee...I would like some."

"No offense, Ziva, but I'm not making a coffee run before knowing Tony is okay." She looked at him for a silent moment before her eyes shifted and focused somewhere behind him.

"Ducky," she said and moved to go around the agent.

"Ziva, has there been any word?" the doctor asked.

"No. Nothing...I've heard nothing about Tony or Gibbs since we arrived."

"Jethro was hurt as well?" he asked, a bit surprised.

"He jumped in after him," McGee told him. "Pulled him out of the car and did CPR till he could barely move."

"He rode with Tony," Ziva added, "And seemed a bit better when we got here. But they took him in to be seen, and we have heard no news, since."

"How long was Anthony in the water?" Ducky asked with concern clearly written on his face.

"The call ended," McGee pulled out his cell and opened his logs, "At 10:37...we didn't get to the bridge for three minutes afterward. I think Gibbs pulled him onto land maybe a couple minutes later..."

"He managed to resuscitate him right before we met up with them," Ziva added.

"But he...stopped breathing less than a minute after that; had no pulse," McGee's voice cracked, showing his fear for his friend's life.

"They were not successful in resuscitating him before they loaded him into the ambulance," Ziva's eyes contained unshed tears, and sought Ducky's reassurance.

"If they haven't given you any news thus far," Ducky said, "Then they must have been successful on the way here. Take some comfort in that, at least," he put a hand on one of each of the agents' shoulders. "I'll try to locate Jethro and perhaps he will know more about Anthony's condition. I'll let you know what I find out, but in the meantime, please try not to worry yourselves to death. Get something to eat."

He left them, knowing full well they probably wouldn't take his advice. But Ducky was more concerned for his ailing friends; especially Tony. Already compromised lung tissue would make him all the more perceptible to complications. The amount of time he'd spent in the freezing lake... he couldn't even think about that yet...

Doctor Mallard reached the nurse station and managed to capture the attention of the olive-skinned head nurse. "Excuse me," he said. "I'm looking for a friend of mine who was brought in a couple of hours ago. His name is Leroy Jethro Gibbs."

"Oh yes," she said as she typed into the computer, "The NCIS agent that was brought in with Agent DiNozzo."

"That would be them. I'm curious about both of their conditions."

"Well I can bring you to see Agent Gibbs, but Agent DiNozzo is in our O.R receiving warming extracorporeal circulation. I'd be happy to go check his current status for you, Mr..."

"Dr. Mallard," he filled in for her. "I would appreciate that very much."

"Alright, Agent Gibbs is down the hall on the right; room 106."

"Duck, tell them to let me the hell outta here," Gibbs said as he slipped on his shoes.

"Jethro, how are you doing?" Ducky asked as he entered the room fully and approached his friend, who was clothed in hospital scrubs and balancing a blanket around his shoulders.

"I'm fine. Just been warming up while they keep forcing juice boxes on me. You find out anything about DiNozzo?"

"Only that he's receiving a treatment to bring up his body temperature. Did they say what his temp was when they arrived at the lake?"

"34 Celsius," he replied. "Said his heart wasn't pumpin' well enough and fluid was backing up into his lungs. I need to get outta here; need to see him, Duck."

"The head nurse is going now to inquire about his current condition," Ducky reassured him. "If we can go see him, she will let us know." Gibbs slumped back down into the chair next to the bed with a defeated sigh as his head fell into his hands.

"I told him to step on it," he said. "Told him to speed up...shouldn't have said that."

"This isn't your fault, Jethro," he said as he sat on the arm of the chair beside him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You did everything in your power, above and beyond the call of duty, to save him."

"What if that's not good enough?" he lifted his head to look at him. "They had to shock him three times to get his heart going."

"And it's still going. He's alive."

"He was in the water, drowned...for at least five minutes!" he stood. "Who knows what kinda damage has been done?"

"With a body temperature of 34 degrees Celsius, his body would have gone into hypothermia. As frightening as it may have been to see him like that, the cold may have saved him."

"I'll believe it when I see it, Ducky... How's Ziva and McGee holding up?"

"They're quite worried about the both of you."

"They don't need to be worried about me," Gibbs said right as a nurse came into the room.

"The doctor said you're okay to leave, as long as we can release you into someone's care," she told him.

"He'll be with me," Ducky informed her and stood as Gibbs already headed for the door. In the hall, they met up with the head nurse.

"Doctor Mallard," she said as she approached them. "I was able to speak briefly to the doctor treating Agent DiNozzo." Gibbs turned to face her as he stood next to Ducky. "They were able to bring his body temperature up to normal levels."

"That is very good news," Ducky said.

"However," she continued, "After several incidents of respiratory arrest, they found it necessary to intubate him. He's on a ventilator for the time being, until we see an improvement." Gibbs felt a pang in his chest at the news.

"Is there still fluid present in his lungs?" Ducky asked.

"They drained what fluid they could, but they said he's likely to have pneumonia."

"Did they receive his medical records from Bethesda?" Ducky asked. "His lungs have considerable scarring from-"

"Yes, Doctor, we did. The pneumonic plague incident; they took that into consideration and believe that it's why he had so much trouble."

"Have they been able to detect any degradation of his organs?"

"Everything seems to be fine, with the exception of his breathing. However, he hasn't regained consciousness since the first arrest here in the hospital. There's no way to know for certain if there was any damage done. I can say from what I've seen in my time, drowning victims having been in the water for that long before resuscitation...the likelihood of there being no damage is low."

Gibbs heard nothing after that point, though he knew the two were still talking. He turned and walked away from them, toward where his agents were waiting. Ducky watched him with concern before turning his gaze back to the nurse. "Can we see him?" he asked.

"Boss..." McGee stood as he closed his cell phone. "You okay?"

"How many people are gonna ask me that? I'm fine. Where's Ziva?"

"She's in the bathroom...I uh...just got a phone call from GCPD. They pulled the car from the lake. They said there's indication that in didn't go over on its own," he said with furrowed brow.

Gibbs narrowed his eyes. "We were on the phone with him when it happened, McGee. He hit a deer. We saw the damn thing in the road."

"Yeah, Boss...I know. He swerved and hit the rail. But there are different tracks over his, and evidence that the car was pushed over...by another vehicle." McGee seemed just as disturbed by this information as Gibbs now felt. Suddenly, fear and anxiety turned fiercely into anger and confusion.

"Someone deliberately tried to kill DiNozzo..."


	3. Chapter 3

19 hours earlier...

Tony was pulled from his sleep by the constant chirping of his cell. After the fourth ring, he picked it up from his side-table and looked at the caller ID.

"What is it, Probie? I was in the middle of a really great dream..."

"We're heading out to the Wisp resort ," McGee sounded on the other line.

"What?"

"Dead Navy Lieutenant. You'll have to meet us; we're already on the way."

"But...my car's in the shop. And the loaner they gave me is a piece of work...blower motor isn't working, so it's got no heat," he whined as he pulled himself out of bed.

"If you would've answered the first time I called, you could've ridden with us."

"It's five in the morning, man...c'mon..."

Tony parked next to the M.E van and got out of the car, trekking over to where his team was located in a wooded area beside the white-blanketed slopes. He wrapped his arms around himself to keep whatever warmth he could as the wind picked up slightly, causing a shiver to rush through him.

"About time you got here," McGee smirked and turned back toward the body of the Navy Lieutenant and snapped another picture.

"Yeah, yeah. I had to stop for coffee. It's so damn cold in that rental, I had to drink it all before I got here, just to keep from becoming a DiNozzo popsicle," he looked at the mangled body on the ground. "What do we got? Looks like he was skiing," he said as he noted the skis still firmly attached to the dead man's feet. "Death by pine tree?"

"That is what we originally thought," Ziva said as she closed an evidence bag. "But there in no indication that he ran into anything."

"Coulda tumbled to his death," Tony suggested, looking to Ducky and Palmer who hovered over the body.

"One might come to that conclusion by the look of things," Ducky said. "The way his body is laid out, it most definitely seems he took a rather steep fall down the slope." Tony turned to look up the high slope beside them.

"Doesn't look like anyone's even been skiing," he pointed out. "No tracks or anything."

"Yes, he was discovered by an employee of the resort earlier this morning. This particular slope has been closed off as of then. Because of the cold, I can't give an accurate time of death, although I surmise this happened late yesterday, possibly after hours. Probably some time before ten, as it began to snow heavily at that point, according to the manager we spoke with."

"Snow covered up the tracks," McGee said.

"Nice detective work, McSherlock," Tony said, and Tim narrowed his eyes.

"I'm just verifying that he had to have fallen somewhere between closing hours and ten last night. That's a three hour window," he defended.

"Unless someone placed him here after he was killed," Tony said. Ducky looked up at him in curiosity, as did Ziva and Jimmy.

"Now what, may I ask, leads you to believe this wasn't an accident?" the M.E asked.

"Well for starters," he smirked, "Last time I checked, we don't cover accidental ski-related deaths. Secondly, look at his skiis," he pointed as he crouched down, and the rest of them huddled around to observe. "They're brand new."

"So he bought new skis. What does that have to do with anything?" McGee asked.

"These skis are something an inexperienced skier would buy, Probie. This was probably his first time skiing."

"Which seems to further conclude that this was an accident," Ziva said, looking slightly past them at Gibbs approached with the manager.

"Well, I'd believe that, if I didn't know that this," he motioned up at the slope, "Is definitely not a beginner slope."

"You would be correct," the manager said as he overheard the conversation. Tony stood and turned. "He shouldn't have been on this slope. I looked up his guest reservations for the resort, and he was paying for lessons from one of our instructors. He would have been clearly instructed not to come to this particular slope."

"Was he staying at the resort alone?" Tony asked.

"He checked in with a woman, two nights ago. Her first name is Holly. I believe she and the Lieutenant were engaged."

"Where is she now?" Gibbs asked.

"After she saw him, she became very upset," he told them. "She wanted to leave, but I told her to please stay in case authorities had questions for her. She said she would be in her room."

"Gonna need the room number," Gibbs said.

"You are convinced that this woman killed her fiance," Ziva said to Tony as they and Gibbs rode up in the elevator in the resort. "And Ducky is not even sure that this was anything more than an accident."

"I'm usually right about this stuff, Zee-vah," he said as the lift stopped on their floor.

"You are only sometimes right, Tony. You should not count your chicks before they hatch," Ziva smirked. Tony's eyes shifted up as he pondered the statement.

"I'm not even sure how that applies to this situation," he concluded as they reached the door. "And it's chickens, not chicks...I think," he cocked his head.

"It is definitely chicks in this case," she knocked beside the peep hole on the door and they waited for a moment; Gibbs smirking, not solely to either agent.

"Holly Zanderfield?" Tony said close to the door, "We're with NCIS; we need to speak with you." There was no reply, and Tony glanced at Gibbs before they each readied their weapons. Gibbs reached out to turn the handle, and to their surprise, it was unlocked.

He nodded to Tony, who kicked open the door and held his weapon out in front of him as he entered the room. Ziva followed, turning in to the bathroom, "Clear," she told them. Gibbs entered, holstering his weapon as Tony verified the rest of the room was empty.

"Luggage is missing," Gibbs said.

"Except for the Lieutenant's belongings," Ziva added, holstering her gun.

"See," Tony said, looking over at Ziva. "It's always the fiance..."

"Hey, Abby," McGee said into his cell. "Lemme put you on screen." He pressed a few buttons on his laptop, bringing up the forensic goth in her lab, to his screen.

"Hey, Timmy!" she smiled. "How's the resort? Did you try out the slopes?"

"It's not a vacation, Abs," he cocked his head. "And hopefully we won't be here too long. It's freezing."

"Aw, it can't be that bad. You should go skiing! I bet you'd love it."

"I'm sure that's what Lieutenant Arwin said before he careened down the slope to his death," he told her. "But anyway, we need you to run him and his fiance, Holly Zanderfield, through the system and see what you can come up with. She took off from the resort before we could question her. Tony thinks she staged Arwin's death, and that it's not an accident."

"I'll see what I can find. Are you sending me evidence?"

"Ducky and Palmer are on the way back to NCIS with the body and everything we picked up here. Meanwhile, if you could verify that Tony's wrong, and this was just an accident, we can get out of here faster..."

"Geez, McGee. Why are you so grumpy today?" Tim sighed and looked at her apologetically.

"Sorry...just didn't get much sleep last night, then got called in early. I wanna go home and crawl into bed."

"Here ya go, Probie," Tony startled Tim as he came up beside the open passenger door, handing him a steaming cup of coffee. "We're all cold and tired, so suck it up and drink some joe."

"And start the car," Gibbs said as he approached with Ziva. McGee closed his door and reached over to the ignition, starting the engine as Gibbs got into the driver seat.

"Where we going?" McGee asked.

"To question the ski instructor," Tony answered for him.

"He was the last one to see Arwin alive," Ziva added as she put on her seatbelt.

"You got Abs on there?" Gibbs asked as he turned on the heater.

"Hey, Gibbs!" her voice sounded from the computer, and Tim turned the screen to face his boss.

"Got one more name for you to run," he told her. "Maxwell Russo."

"Yes, I remember this man," Russo said as he looked at the photograph. Russo was tall, fit, and pleasing to the eye. His dark eyes matched his hair, and his house was decorated with much of his Spanish culture. His accent had Tony reminiscing over several movie cliches; none that he would say at the moment, though. "He attended my six o'clock lesson yesterday evening. He was a bit...out of his element."

"Terrible skier?" Tony asked.

"You could say that, yes," he replied. "May I ask why you are asking about him?"

"He was found dead, this morning," Gibbs told him.

"Oh...my...at the resort?"

"Bottom of an advanced slope," Gibbs replied.

"He should not have attempted that...obviously," Russo looked down.

"Did his fiance attend the lesson with him?" Tony asked. Russo looked up at him with a bit of confusion.

"His fiance? I do not know. I do not recall anyone being with him, no."

"And the lesson ended at seven," Gibbs confirmed.

"Yes. He left a little beforehand, though. He was not...prepared to be told what to do. He insisted on figuring it out for himself."

"Obviously not the best decision he ever made," Ziva chimed in.

"Mr. Russo," Gibbs said as he stood from the table, "If you should remember anything that might be of any importance, or should happen to see this woman," he showed him a photo of Holly, "Please give me a call," he dropped a business card on the table.

"I wonder," Doctor Mallard said as he prepared Arwin's body for autopsy, "Did you really think you could take on that slope, or did something else happen...?"

"I have the x-rays, Doctor," Jimmy said as he approached, setting them up on the board and switching on the light.

"Ah, yes. Let's see what damage he managed to do before reaching the bottom," he said as he examine the black and white evidence before him. "What have we here..."

"What is it?" Jimmy asked as he squinted at the x ray.

"A lot fewer broken bones than expected. But look here," he pointed at the ribcage.

"Three broken ribs," Jimmy said.

"Yes. All pressing deeply into the lung tissue. But do you notice what's wrong with this picture?" he asked as he glanced over at the body. Jimmy followed his line of sight.

"No bruising," he concluded.

"And no bleeding from the puncture on the x ray..."

"Yeah. Gibbs," he said into his cell.

"Jethro," Ducky's voice sounded on the line. "Abby and I have information for you."

"Put them on screen," Gibbs said to McGee. Tim complied, and Ducky and Abby's faces lit up on the screen; autopsy in the background.

"It seems Anthony was correct in thinking the Lieutenant was killed elsewhere," Ducky said. "He was killed by a blow to the back of the head with a blunt object. I didn't notice it at the scene because it was done elsewhere, and the bleeding had stopped before he was dumped. Whoever killed him, took his body to the top of that slope and pushed him over, attempting to simulate a fall and lead us off the possibility of murder."

"I looked up the fiance and Russo," Abby said, "And neither came up with any priors. But Holly Zanderfield bought a plane ticket early this morning...to Mexico."

"Always the fiance, Ziva," Tony said in a low voice in the back seat. Ziva glared but smirked.

"But guess who else bought a ticket just moments after her, same flight, same time?"

Gibbs waited for the answer, but she just watched, expectantly. "Who, Abs?" he asked.

"You're supposed to guess, Gibbs," she said, but when she saw the angry glare, she changed her mind. "Okay, okay...you're no fun. Maxwell Russo!"

Gibbs slammed on the brakes, spinning the car around to go back. McGee closed the laptop and held onto the door handle for dear life. Then his cell began to chirp.

"Abby, I didn't mean to hang up on you-"

"Well, there's more," she said.

"Hold on, I'll put you on speaker."

"Holly has been checking in to Wisp resort every weekend for three months now. My guess is that she was seeing Russo..."

"And got him to kill her fiance so they could run off together," Gibbs surmised.

"You'd think it would've been easier to just break off the engagement," Tony added.

"Perhaps he would not have allowed that to happen," Ziva said.

"Still...they're running off to Mexico," Tony said. "Doesn't make sense why they'd have to kill him at all."

"Rarely ever makes sense, Tony," Gibbs said as they pulled up in front of Russo's house.

Maxwell was putting a suitcase into the trunk of his car as the team approached him. "Going somewhere?" Gibbs asked. Russo slowly turned around.

"On a vacation," he said.

"Wouldn't happen to be going to Mexico, now would ya?" Tony asked. Russo knew he was made. He glanced at the gun at McGee's side holster, and quickly grabbed it, pulling McGee in front of him; holding his arm around his neck and pointing the weapon at his head. The team had their weapons drawn and aimed at Russo now.

"I did it so that we could be together!" he shouted.

"Put the gun down!" Gibbs yelled.

"No! You put your guns down, or he dies! I am not going to prison! She is waiting for me! I must go to her!" Gibbs looked into McGee's panicked eyes as they met his.

"She's already gone, Max," Tony said. "Like we told you earlier, she left. She used you to kill Arwin," Ziva glanced at Tony, understanding what he was attempting to do. "Just put the gun down. You don't have to hurt anyone else."

"Do you know what happens to cop-killers in prison, Russo?" Gibbs asked, trying to pull his attention towards him and Ziva. Tony was the only one who had a clear shot.

"I do not care," Russo said, angrily. "And I will not stand here and be told lies about the woman I love! Now put your weapons down, or I swear to you, I will kill him!" he met Gibbs' glare. "One...two..." he positioned the barrel straight against Tim's temple. "Three!"

A shot was fired, and McGee fell forward as he was released; his hands flying over the sides of his head. Then he opened his eyes and turned, seeing Russo on the ground; a bullet wound at his own temple, and he looked over at Tony who was approaching him now along with the others.

"You okay, McGee?" he asked as he holstered his weapon. Tim nodded.

"Yeah...thanks," he told him, seemingly in a bit of shock. Then his felt Gibbs pat him on the shoulder.

"David," Gibbs said as he turned to her, "Call the local PD. Tell them we found Arwin's killer, and to come pick up the body." Then he turned to McGee, "Call Abby and get the flight information. They're gonna have to post men there to apprehend her."

"Boss," Tony called from where he stood at the trunk of Russo's car, and Gibbs turned. Tony held up a plane ticket.

"There's your flight info, McGee," Gibbs said. "Bag the gun," he told Tony. "We'll get you a new one," he told Tim as he handed him the ticket.

"Come on, Probie, swap with me," Tony begged as they gassed up both cars.

"No way, Tony. You said there's no heat in there."

"That's my point, man! I'm gonna die in there..."

"You are not going to die," Ziva shook her head.

"Then you should ride with me, Zee-vah. Body heat...you could save me," he gave a devilish grin.

"How about coffee heat," Gibbs handed Tony a large cup of steaming liquid from the gas station store.

"Thanks, Boss," he said. "But somehow it's...just not the same," he gave Ziva puppy dog eyes, and she laughed through her nose.

"It is only a couple of hours," she patted his chest. "When we get home, I will buy you a drink to warm you up," she winked and turned to get into Gibbs' car. Tony smirked as he pondered the thought.

Holly Zanderfield sat in her car across the street and watched the agents as they got into their vehicles. She was only interested in one of them though; the one that killed her lover...She was relieved to see that he was in a separate car then the rest of them. It would be easier to get to him this way. Her plan was to follow him; however far that may be. She would follow him until he was alone, and she would get her revenge...

"Son of a bitch!" Tony cursed as his full cup of coffee tipped over onto the passenger floor, spilling all of its contents. He stopped the car and grabbed a handful of napkins he'd had left over from a drive-thru the night before, and sopped up what he could of the mess. "Damnit damnit damnit!" he spat through gritted teeth.

His cell began to chirp, and he sighed. He was freezing, out of coffee, and it was snowing. "What is it, Probie," he said as he answered.

"Just tryin' to figure out how far behind us you are."

"Well if the damn heat worked in this piece of crap-"

"We passed over the Glendale bridge a couple minutes ago," Gibbs said. "Where are you?"

"Hey, Boss...didn't realize I was on speaker," he stepped on the gas and looked around for signs. "Uhhh...looks like I'm comin' up on the bridge here in a sec."

"Well step on it and catch up. I wanna get home some time tonight."

Tony pressed down on the gas pedal, "On it, B- oh shit!" A deer was standing steadfast in the middle of the road in front of him and he slammed on the breaks and swerved...

"Oh this is perfect," Holly said as she slowed down before getting onto the bridge. She turned off her headlights and slowly crept toward the car that was already partially hanging from the edge. All it would need is a little push...

The side of his head had smacked against the window before the car came to a halt. His heart was racing and he'd been so shocked, he could barely catch his breath.

"DiNozzo?" he heard Gibbs say.

"Tony, are you okay?" McGee asked. Tony looked toward the sound. The phone had fallen to the floor by his feet, but something in his gut told him not to move.

"I ca- can't reach the phone, guys-"

"What happened?" Gibbs asked.

"Think I hit a deer...then I think I hit a rail..."

"Are you hurt?" he heard Ziva ask.

"I dunno...head hurts..." and suddenly he felt the car begin to inch forward, and he squinted to look out the window... "Oh...oh shit..." what he saw below, terrified the hell out of him...dark water. "I'm hangin' off the bridge here...shit!" he yelled, panicked as he felt the car begin to tilt.

"We're comin', Tony!" Gibbs said.

Tony leaned back, reaching down to adjust the seat back, in hopes to balance the car so it wouldn't continue to fall. But the movement didn't stop... Shit shit shit! He thought as his stomach began to twist... then he felt weightless as the car plummeted toward the water. His headlights lit up the eery void below, and he clamped his eyes shut, hoping this was all just a nightmare...

Tony's arms crossed protectively over his face as the car hit the water. Then there was silence... He felt the swaying as the car slowly touched down to the bottom, and he opened his eyes. The cold sting of water already risen to his chest, he tried to pull himself together and plan his escape.

The cold was actually painful; paralyzing, and he knew he had to act fast. He tried to push open the door, with no luck. The water was at his neck now...he shook violently and struggled to breathe. "Help..." he cried... He knew no one could hear, and he wasn't sure why he even said it...maybe it was a prayer.

He reached down to where the seat belt plugged in, and unfastened it, letting his body float up a bit, pressing his face up to the top of the car's interior, sucking in what breath he could. Just a few more seconds...then the pressure would be equal, and he could open the door. Just a few more seconds...

Tony was fully submerged in the water coffin, letting his head fall straight. He looked at the door handle, reaching for it, but unable to grasp it. He couldn't feel his hands...couldn't feel anything...he couldn't move...

This is it...this is the end... He held his breath until he couldn't any longer. If he could cry, he would be doing it now. So many things left unsaid... So many things he wished he would have done...

His own lungs betrayed him, sucking in the cold water...trying to cough it out...then...nothing...


	4. Chapter 4

"Yeah, we know she didn't get on the flight," McGee said frustratingly into his phone. "But she's gonna get there somehow. Her picture needs to be in every airport, train station and bus line. She's gonna try to get there one way or another. Hell, put her damn picture at the border! She's wanted for attempted murder of a federal agent! Bring. Her. In." he slammed the phone closed and squeezed his eyes closed against the cold air under the ambulance entrance way.

Hatred and anger coursed through his veins. His partner...his friend, was nearly killed. No, he was killed. He was dead. She'd killed him. And by the grace of God, he was hanging onto life again. But for how long? When Ducky had filled him in on Tony's condition, it had shaken him to the core. But he had a job to do. Gibbs wanted them to find Holly.

McGee had called Abby, but only to tell her to find Holly's trail. He wouldn't tell her about Tony; not yet. They needed at least one person on the team who wasn't completely distracted by what had happened. Not that there was anything the remaining team could do at this point. GCPD had pulled the tracks and sent all pictures of the scene to Abby's email. He was careful to tell them not to send the license plate number of Tony's loaner, or name of the victim. She didn't need those things to find what they needed.

"McGee?" Tim opened his eyes to see Ziva standing in front of him. "You should come back inside. It is too cold out here."

"I shoulda swapped with him," he said. She furrowed her brow.

"Do not do this," she put a hand on his arm.

"No, Ziva, I should have."

"You would take his place in that car and drown?" she squinted, trying to make him understand what he was implying.

"Yeah. Yeah I would." Ziva shook her head in confusion and disbelief. But before she could reply, he spoke again, "He saved my life today. If I'd just swapped with him... If it was me that had to be pulled outta that lake, I would've had better odds. Tony's lungs are already compromised. He could die..."

"Tony will not die," she said with conviction.

"You don't know that, Ziva!" he said as tears welled in his eyes. "You saw him out there... And you heard what Ducky said. If by some miracle he survives this, he could be brain damaged for the rest of his life! He could never even wake up! We may have already lost him!"

Ziva slapped him, and it stunned him speechless. "How dare you!" her voice was riddled with pain. "How dare you give up hope for him! He is your friend..." and suddenly she was in tears. Tim swallowed. He'd never seen her like this before, and it broke his heart. She was right, of course... And by saying what he had, he'd made this a hundred times more difficult on her.

"I'm sorry..." he said quietly, then put his arms around her, pulling her to him. To his surprise, her arms went around him and returned the hug. Her warmth made him realize just how cold it was out there. And for a moment, he recalled the long minutes he'd performed CPR on Tony next to the lake. He'd felt so cold beneath his already freezing hands... "Let's go inside," he said, trying to pull himself from the memory.

Gibbs sat in a chair beside Tony's hospital bed in the ICU. Heat lamps surrounded his bed, and he was wrapped in blankets. Perhaps the most disturbing thing, was the hissing sound of the ventilator; the mechanical rise and fall of Tony's chest.

Gibbs closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, trying to somehow will the pounding headache away. But behind closed lids, he could see the deadened eyes of his senior agent before he pulled him from the lake... The blueish tint that covered his body as he tried desperately to revive him.

Brain damage? No...he couldn't even think about that right now. Concentrate on Tony staying alive...we'll cross that bridge if we come to it.

"Jethro," Gibbs looked up to see Ducky coming into the room. "There's a hotel not far from here. You should go get some sleep, or at least try. Perhaps you can convince Ziva and Timothy to do the same."

"Tell them to go, Duck. I'm not leavin'."

"I figured as much," his friend said. "I'll try and convince them, myself. But I doubt they'll give in unless they're able to see Anthony. The last they'd seen him, he was technically dead." Gibbs let out a frustrated breath and lowered his head as he ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, Jethro. I know this is difficult for you."

Gibbs pushed himself up out of the chair. "You stay here with DiNozzo. I'll go talk to them. Then I'm gonna get some coffee and you'll go with them to get some sleep."

"No coffee for you tonight," he told him. "And I'm not saying that to be difficult. Doctor's orders specifically included not drinking coffee. They released you into my care, so if you're staying here, then so am I."

Ziva and Tim approached Tony's bed cautiously, as if they were stepping across his very lifeline. Ziva laid her hand on his chest, confirming his heart beat and the steady rise and fall of his chest. Even if it was being done by a machine...she needed to feel it.

"Sometimes," Ducky said quietly, "It helps the patient, to talk to them." Ziva looked somewhere between herself and Ducky. "I'll step out for a moment," he said, and looked at McGee, signaling him to follow. Ziva heard the door close behind her, and realized she was alone.

Looking at Tony's face, she bent down closer to him. "Tony," she said in a quiet voice, "If you can hear me...I just want you to know...that I care for you, very much," her eyes stung with tears. "Please get well, so that I can tell you that when you are awake."

There were few moments when she'd seen him so helpless. Few moments she'd ever seriously feared for his life. Seeing him this way, knowing what she knew of the possibilities...was hard. Ziva...once called an emotionless perfect warrior...felt completely the opposite.

There were unspoken feelings she assumed she'd had time to wait to convey. She loved him. She had loved him for a long time, and she'd never had the courage...yes, the courage; the one thing she'd always been sure she was superior with over all of them...to tell him.

Now, she was unsure if she would ever have that chance. She pressed her lips gently against his cheek, keeping them there as her eyes closed and a tear fell down her cheek. She straightened, squeezing his hand briefly as she used the other to wipe the tear from her face. Then she pulled herself away and walked out of the room. McGee was standing with Ducky in the hall. "We can go now," she told them.

"Wait," Tim said. "I wanna talk to him for a second," he looked at her for a moment before stepping into the room and closing the door. He walked up to the bed and searched Tony's face, trying to ignore the tube coming from his mouth. "I uh...I'm sorry I didn't swap with you, Tony," he told him. He took a breath, trying to compose himself. "We're gonna find Zanderfield. She did this to you. She pushed the car over with hers. We're gonna find her...I promise..." he swallowed. "Tony, I-" he stopped. Just say it, he told himself. Just tell him what you think of him; how you love him as if he were your own brother. But he couldn't. "We'll be back to see you in the morning."

Tim sat up against the headboard in the hotel room, with his laptop in his lap. He figured he'd make use of the free wi-fi and try to help Abby find the trail. He had her send him the scene photos, and was talking to her on speaker phone.

"So I talked to GCPD, and they matched the paint scrapings from the rear bumper of the car that was pushed off of the bridge, to Maxwell Russo's car," she told him. "Only, we all know he's dead. Which means someone took it. My guess is that it was Zanderfield."

"Yeah, we figured as much. But were you able to track the car from that point?"

"The police found it abandoned at a gas station a few miles up the road. I figured she must've jacked another car, but no one reported one being stolen in the area. So I found her cell phone records and the last call was placed to a taxi cab company. I called to find out where she'd been dropped off, but the cabbie never reported back."

"She could possibly have him at gunpoint," McGee surmised.

"Last report, he'd said they were headed southwest."

"Is the director still in the office?" he asked.

"It's two in the morning, Timmy. I doubt it."

"We need to get her face on the news. The more people aware she's out there, the more likely she'll be spotted."

"I put a BOLO out on the cab, the driver, and Zanderfield. If they so much as stop for gas, someone's gonna recognize them." There was a long moment of silence before Abby became concerned. "McGee?"

"Yeah?" he replied haphazardly.

"Where are you?"

"I'm in Garrett County, Abs. I told you that."

"No, I mean where are you right now?"

"In a hotel room...why?"

"Well, seeing as Zandefield is probably far from Maryland at this point, I'm kinda confused as to why you're all staying overnight."

"Uh...well we're not exactly finished here yet..."

"Does it have anything to do with who was in the car that went over the bridge? 'Cause I never saw a license plate or anything in order to figure out who the vic was."

"Abby... knowing who it is, isn't gonna help us find her."

"What are you hiding, McGee?"

"I'm...not hiding anything!" he panicked.

"You're a horrible liar, Tim! It's Gibbs, isn't it...oh my gosh, is he okay?"

"It's not Gibbs. Look-"

"Just tell me! I'm gonna find out, either way! So unless you want the silent treatment for the next month-"

"It's Tony, okay!" he snapped. Then he closed his eyes against the anger and frustration. And when he didn't hear a reply, he opened his eyes again. "Abby?"

"Tell me he's okay, McGee..." her voice was softer; more afraid.

"He's in the hospital here in Garrett County. He's gonna be okay," his cursed himself under his breath after his voice cracked with the last statement. "I didn't wanna tell you yet, because we need you. Please tell me you can find that...bitch."

"I can find that bitch. I will find that bitch." Abby was quiet for a moment. "Tim, please give Tony a hug from me?"

"Okay, Abs."

"It's gotta be a really tight hug, Timmy. Not a man hug; a real hug like the ones I give."

"Okay, Abby, I will," he smirked.

"You promise?" he could hear the worry in her voice.

"I promise. As long as you promise you're gonna find Zanderfield."

"Oh, I'll do more then find her..." There was a knock at the door and McGee looked up.

"Hey, Abby, I gotta go. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?" he waited for her reply, then ended the call and moved the laptop to the mattress as he stood to open the door. Ziva stood in the doorway looking up at him. "You okay, Ziva?" he asked.

"I could not sleep," she told him, then looked past him at the laptop. "I heard you talking on the phone. Are you working?"

"Uh...yeah. I was trying to. Sorry if I was keeping you up."

"You were not," she said, her gaze drifting to his chest. The chill from outside made him shiver.

"Come in. It's freezing out there," he moved to make room for her to enter and she did. He closed the door behind them and turned to her. She took off her jacket and set it down on the end of the bed. "You didn't even try to sleep, did you?" he asked, noticing that she hadn't changed from her clothes. She turned to look at him.

"Yes I did. I simply decided to get dressed before coming over here. Neither of us have our overnight bags, McGee. And while it may be appropriate for you to prance around in your underclothes," she glanced over his tee and boxers, "I thought it might be a bad idea to come over in mine." She had a smirk on her face, which somehow made him feel a little better; made him forget for just a moment why they were still there.

He smiled briefly as she glanced back over at the laptop. "I honestly was hoping there'd be a mini bar in here," he told her. "Nothing's open this late, but I could really use a drink." She nodded in agreement, then sat down on the end of the bed as Tim made his way back to his computer. "So as usual, I bury myself in work, so I don't have room to think about anything else..."

"Can I help?" she asked, turning to look at him as he sat against the headboard.

"Honestly, I don't even think I'm helping," he said. "Abby's doing all the work. I'm just checking behind her, which really isn't all that necessary."

"It is better than sitting around, feeling like you are doing nothing at all," she said. He nodded with a half-smile. "Perhaps...I can help you look over...whatever it is you are looking over?" she raised her brows.

"Uh...sure," he said as he pulled the computer to his lap, then motioned with his head for her to come sit next to him. She stood and walked to the other side of the bed, then moved to sit beside him up against the headboard; her eyes fixing onto the screen. "I've just been monitoring Zanderfield's email and debit cards; stuff like that. We figure if she's leaving the country, she'll empty her account. When she does, we'll know where she is."

"You will know where she withdraws the money, but she will be on the move again," Ziva said. "And she may not even stop to get it. She may have taken money out in preparation."

"We looked for that. If anything, she's been depositing more for the past couple of weeks. The last purchase she made was for the airline ticket."

"Could she have traded in the ticket for a later flight?"

"She knew we'd find her if she set foot in the airport. She couldn't risk that."

"She could have sold it," she suggested. McGee looked at her in thought.

"That...would've gotten her enough cash to get there another way," he surmised, then turned back to the screen as he typed. "If she sold it, then someone used that ticket to get onto that flight." He pulled up the flight itinerary information and went through the passenger list. "Why didn't I think of this before? I just assumed they'd find her if she tried to get on the plane..."

"You had a lot on your mind," she said. "But we will find her. What we need to do now, though, is find out who took her place on the flight."

"And ask how much they gave her for the ticket," he said. "Then we might be able to estimate how far she'll get before needing to stop for money."

"Which will allow for time to have someone there waiting to capture her," Ziva said, and McGee picked up his cell and dialed.

"Abby," he said once she answered, "Someone used Zanderfield's ticket. Can you find out who?" he listened intently to the voice on the other line. "Actually, Ziva thought of it," he said, glancing at Ziva briefly before turning back to the screen and typing on the keyboard. "Looks like there'll be a two hour layover at Dallas-Forth Worth. If we can't find who it is in the air, we can find them there... All we need to know is how much they paid her... Yeah, Abs... Okay," he ended the call and set the phone down on the night stand, then glanced back at Ziva.

She was fast asleep, awkwardly positioned against the headboard. Tim smirked, glad she was going to get some rest after all. Then he turned back to the screen.

Gibbs woke with a painful twinge in his neck, realizing that he'd fallen asleep in the chair. And all at once, he recalled where he was and why. He straightened in the chair and looked over at Tony. The agent hadn't moved an inch. But the room was much brighter, and Gibbs realized it was already morning.

"Ah, good morning, Jethro," he looked at the door to see Ducky as he entered with a styrofoam container. "I took the liberty of bringing you some breakfast. It's from the hospital cafeteria, but it's not half bad. Tried some myself," he handed him the box.

"Thanks, Duck," he popped open the lid and examined its contents, realizing he wasn't very hungry at all, really. But he took the banana and closed the box, setting it down on the side table before peeling it. "Anything happen while I was asleep?" he asked before taking a bite.

"They came to inform me of the CT scan results. Apparently, in the accident, Anthony received a concussion on the left side of his head. Nothing serious; in fact, he probably didn't even lose consciousness at that point."

"Why hasn't he regained consciousness?" he asked with a furrowed brow.

"Well, he's been through a very traumatic event, Jethro," he said as he sat in a chair beside him. "Both physically and psychologically. One can only imagine how frightening it must have been... And being in the car as it filled with freezing water, undoubtedly paralyzing him; making it impossible to save himself..."

Gibbs understood it right away. When he'd opened the door so easily, and realized that Tony had gotten his seat belt off, but hadn't been able to get himself out... there was no other explanation. "Drowning, two recurrences of cardiac arrest, and even more respiratory arrests... I imagine his panic was great."

"So he's not waking up, because he's afraid it'll happen again?" he squinted.

"Not necessarily. His body has a lot of recovering to do. Sometimes the mind needs to shut down for a while as it happens. But I do hope that he wakes soon. If his lungs continue to fill with fluid, and he's not conscious to expel it naturally, they will have to medically intervene."

"Which involves what, exactly?"

"It's rather unpleasant, so I'll cross that bridge if we should come to it. For now-" Ducky was interrupted by the sudden beeping alarm on the monitor, and both men looked over at Tony. His eyes were wide open in panic as he tried desperately to pull up on the bed, grasping at the ventilator tube.

Gibbs shot up from his chair and rushed to grab his hands; Ducky going to the other side of the bed to assist. "His heart rate is accelerated, Jethro," Ducky told him, "He's panicking, but we can't allow him to pull out this tube."

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs looked him in the eyes, "You gotta calm down. This ventilator is here to help you breathe," he told him. Tony looked at him in fear; tears escaping the outer corners of his eyes. "You're okay, Tony. You're safe. Just calm down." Tony eased back down to the pillow, but didn't break eye contact with his boss.

A doctor and nurse rushed into the room then. "Agent DiNozzo, do you want the tube out?" the doctor asked. Tony looked at him and nodded. "Okay. I'm gonna count to three, and I need you to cough, hard as you can, alright?" he grasped the tube in his hands, "One...two...three," he pulled and Tony coughed...gagged, really, until it was free. He sat forward and continued to cough; his hand clasping down on Gibbs' at the sheer panic of it.

The nurse held a basin in front of him, catching what fluid he managed to cough up. The force of the coughing, frightened Gibbs a bit. He wondered if Tony would even breathe in... but he finally did, and it was followed by more coughing; equal in force, and equal in production of fluid. Gibbs looked over at Ducky, silently questioning if this was right.

But Ducky had maintained his observation of Tony, and bit nervously at his bottom lip. Gibbs turned his attention back to his agent and found his other hand going to Tony's back, as if to somehow give him the strength he needed to continue. And after a moments, the coughing seemed to subside, and it left Tony desperately trying to catch his breath.

Eye still closed, Tony concentrated on his ability to breathe; letting the hand on his back, and the one he was clinging to, ground him. Slowly, the hand at his back moved up to his shoulder and lead him to lay back on the inclined bed, and he opened his eyes; not focusing on anything in particular until a doctor came into his view.

"Agent DiNozzo, how are you feeling? Any pain?" the doctor asked. Tony furrowed his brow; his hand pulling away from Gibbs' and settling on his chest. The doctor gave an understanding smile, "CPR was performed on you for close to twenty minutes," he told him. "You'll be sore for a bit, but it will pass. The internal pain is from the fluid build-up in your lungs. But you've done a fine job expelling of some of that just now. This will probably continue for a bit. Any other discomfort?"

Tony's eyes darted around in the air between him as he evaluated himself, then gave a small shake of his head. "Alright," the doctor gave a slight nod, "A nurse will be in, shortly, to change your IV fluids. In the meantime, do you recall why you're here?" Gibbs stood in the same spot next to his bed, watching Tony's face as he tried to access his memories.

"I..." he began, but coughed against the dry ache in his throat, which unfortunately through him into yet another coughing fit. Gibbs helped him forward as Ducky held the basin in front of Tony. He patted his agent's back, like he was a child in need of assistance breaking up the offending fluid.

And suddenly, Tony's eyes flew open with sudden recollection; sucking in his breaths as if they were his last. Gibbs recognized that look...fear. "I was...in the water..." he said through labored breath. "Couldn't move...couldn't save myself..." Gibbs' hand went to Tony's shoulder and squeezed lightly, trying to keep his thoughts in this moment; reminding him he was safe now.

The agent seemed to calm a bit as he lowered himself back onto the pillow behind him. "You drowned," the doctor said calmly. "You were dead somewhere between five and eight minutes before you were pulled out."

"I know," Tony said, matter-of-factly. Gibbs squinted at him as he continued. "Jenny...and Kate..." This made Gibbs flinch.

"Jethro pulled you out of the car and to safety," Ducky told him as he moved closer to the bed again. Tony focused on the M.E.

"It was...too cold," Tony said with a furrowed brow, then turned his head to look at Gibbs. "You okay?" he asked him. Gibbs smirked. It was just like Tony to be worried about the well-being of others whilst clinging to life in a hospital bed.

"Better than you," he told him. The corners of Tony's mouth lifted for a mere moment.

"Well, I'll leave you to you colleagues," the doctor said. "A neurologist will be in later today to evaluate you." He turned to leave before Tony could even question the statement. But Gibbs didn't miss the sudden worry that spread across the agent's face. He patted Tony's shoulder before removing his hand, and Tony looked back over to him.

"Don't worry, DiNozzo," Gibbs said with a smirk, "If you somehow passed it all these years, you'll pass it now. Tony's face relaxed a bit.

"Where am I, Boss?" he asked. "This isn't Bethesda..."

"Still in Garrett County," he told him.

"I'm sure we can get you transferred over to Bethesda at some point," Ducky told him. Tony nodded, and his eyes began to dart around again. Bits and pieces of his memory from the night before, came seeping back into his mind. He remembered Gibbs looking like death, being held by Ziva in front of him...right before the shooting pain took over.

"Ziva and Tim?" he asked as he looked over at Gibbs.

"They're fine," Gibbs assured him. "They should be here soon." Tony relaxed again and his eyelids started to become heavy. "Get some sleep," he told him, gently patting his arm.

"'Kay, Boss," he said as his eyes drifted closed. Gibbs looked over to Ducky.

"I'm gonna call them," he told him. "You'll stay with him?"

"Of course," he said, moving around to the chair.


	5. Chapter 5

McGee woke to the sound of his cell going off. He reached for it almost blindly. "McGee," he answered sleepily.

"You and Ziva comin' anytime soon?" Gibbs' voice said on the other line. Tim sat up, remembering, suddenly, where he was and why.

"Uh...yeah, Boss. I'll go see if she's up. We'll be there soon as possible. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. He's up. Askin' if you were here."

"He's up? We'll be right there..." he ended the call and realized his laptop was still in his lap, and that he'd fallen asleep while working, but didn't recall exactly when that was. He then turned to the figure who laid beside him in the bed as she began to stir.

"McGee?" she asked sleepily as she pushed herself up. Tim closed his laptop and set it on the side table before he stood.

"Tony's up," he told her, and she was immediately wide awake. "You need to grab anything from your room?"

"No," she stood.

"Okay...lemme just get dressed real quick," he grabbed his folded clothes and headed for the bathroom. She nodded, picking her jacket up from the foot of the bed, and slipped it on. She turned to the mirror on the wall over the dresser and straightened her hair the best she could.

"Did they say how he was?" she called.

"Gibbs just said he was up and asking about us," he answered as he slipped out of the bathroom fully clothed.

"If he was talking, that would mean they took him off of the ventilator," she said. "This is good, yes?"

"Yeah, I think so," he replied. Then he took a breath as he thought. "Should we leave our stuff?"

"Check out isn't until eleven," she said. "And we may be here again tonight." He nodded in acknowledgment. Then they headed for the door.

The nurse had come in and changed the IV fluid bag, and fit a nasal cannula onto Tony, with oxygen. All this, she did while he was sleeping. And when all seemed to be well, Ducky told Gibbs that it'd be alright to get himself some coffee from the cafeteria.

Ducky settled back into the chair beside the agent's bed and opened a newspaper, trying not to rattle the pages and wake him. It was only minutes later that Ziva and Tim walked into the room and quietly made their way to the M.E.

"How is he?" Ziva asked him.

"Oh, good morning," Ducky said quietly as he refolded the paper. "He seems to be doing quite well, considering. Did the two of you get any sleep?"

"Some," McGee answered. "How about you and Gibbs?"

"A few hours, I suppose," he replied. "Jethro has gone for coffee. He should be back any time now."

"He told us Tony woke up," Ziva said. "How did he seem?"

"Aware," Ducky began. "He remembers the incident, so his memory doesn't seem to have been affected."

"Hey, guys," they turned to Tony's voice, and Ziva and Tim approached the bed. Tony's eyes had bags under them. He looked exhausted and worn.

"Hey," McGee said with a weak smile. "You look like crap."

"Gee, thanks, Probie," he smirked and pushed himself up a bit higher against the inclined bed, wincing at the pain in his chest.

"Are you in pain?" Ziva asked with a furrowed brow.

"Just sore from the CPR, apparently," he replied as he composed himself.

"Oh...sorry," McGee said with a guilty look on his face, and Tony looked at him in question.

"McGee did CPR when Gibbs was no longer able," Ziva told him. "I believe it was around five minutes."

"If it's any consolation, my shoulders are killing me," Tim said with a smirk.

"I'm sorry your shoulders hurt," Tony said. "But thanks...I appreciate it," his sentence ended at the beginning of another coughing fit. Tony lurched forward, and in his struggling, Ziva and Tim panicked.

"Oh dear," Ducky stood, "Timothy, the basin, please..." he motioned toward the other side of the bed and McGee dashed for it, holding it in front of Tony, just as the agent sucked in a desperate breath and began coughing up the fluid into the basin.

"Should we call a doctor in?" McGee asked, worriedly.

"Not just yet," he replied, "He's supposed to get the fluid up. No need for alarm unless his heart rate accelerates greatly." Ziva's hand settled on Tony's leg, feeling the contractions of his muscles with the effort of coughing. Ducky was closer to Tony's back beside Ziva, and was patting it in efforts to assist him.

McGee paid close attention to the monitor where it showed his heart rate. It was climbing a bit, but not enough to set off an alarm. His attention wavered back and forth between Tony and that monitor; readying himself to scramble out of the room to get a doctor if necessary.

Ziva looked up just as Gibbs came into the room. He set his coffee down and approached the foot of the bed as Tony took another breath; his eyes clamped shut.

"Oh god...this hurts..." he said with struggled breath as he tried to hold back from coughing further. He slammed his upper body back down onto the bed and tried to catch his breath. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he had considerably paled.

"I know it hurts, Anthony," Ducky said as he wiped a cloth over the agent's forehead. "But it's important that you get the fluid out of your lungs. I can guarantee that the alternative method is far less pleasant."

"Should his hand be this cold?" Ziva asked as she held Tony's hand in hers. Ducky laid his hand over Tony's, then glanced at Gibbs who was intently listening for the answer. Then he felt Tony's forehead and furrowed a brow.

"Duck, I-" Tony tried to speak through his inability to get his breathing back to normal. "Can't get my breath..." he opened his eyes which then darted around in confusion.

"I believe it's time to speak with the doctor," Ducky said and maneuvered around the bed toward the door. Gibbs looked over his ailing agent once more before following Ducky out.

"What is it, Duck?" Gibbs asked as he caught up to him.

"Hemolysis, most likely," he supplied. "The extracorporeal circulation he received, tends to break down or damage red blood cells."

"What's that mean for him?"

"Red blood cells carry oxygen throughout the body. When they're damaged, they can't do their job. So literally, despite the difficulty breathing as it is, he's not getting enough oxygen to the rest of his body."

"Can they fix that?" he asked with a furrowed brow.

"They can," he told him, much to his relief. "Folic acid, iron supplements, possibly corticosteroids. In some cases, a transfusion could be necessary. But hopefully, they can remedy the situation before it comes to that."

"Can I get you anything?" McGee asked Tony, unsure of what to do in this situation.

"Yeah...outta here," he said with a small smile playing on his lips. Suddenly, McGee's phone began to ring in his pocket.

"Sorry," he said as he fished it out. Glancing at the caller ID, he looked back at Tony. "I'll be right back," he said and turned to head into the hallway as he answered. "Abby, what's up?"

"We found her..."

"Hey," Tony said to Ziva, who was intently looking at the monitor beside him. He moved his hand under hers and she looked at him. "Don't look so worried, Zi," he smirked. She smiled warmly at him as she sat on the edge of the bed, beside him. Her hands gripped tighter onto his right hand. "I'll be fine. You know me," he looked into her eyes. "Besides, you still owe me a drink, remember?"

"Yes," she smirked. "I do. But you have to get better before that."

"FBI apprehended Zanderfield," McGee said as he reentered the room. They looked over at him as he approached the bed. "They're preparing to transport her to NCIS."

"The FBI?" Ziva asked.

"Yeah, Fornell actually. Apparently he owed Abby a favor."

"She cashed that in to capture Zanderfield?" Tony asked, slightly confused. McGee looked back down at him.

"She pushed your car over the edge," he told him.

"I-" Tony shook his head as if to clear it, "I hit the rail..."

"Yeah, and she was waiting for you. She pushed your car with hers. She was trying to kill you."

"But...she didn't even know who I was," he said.

"She must have been nearby when we confronted Russo," Ziva suggested. "She targeted you because you were the one to take him down." Tony looked into the air in front of him as he pondered the thought.

"Well...I'm glad I didn't end up riding with you all," he said with a smirk. "Coulda been all of us in that lake." His eyes drifted closed as he tried to get a hold of his breath. Ziva and McGee shared a glance.

"Think we should go back to NCIS and wait for when she gets there?" McGee asked.

"No, don't," Tony said; his eyes opening to look at them. "You're not... goin' anywhere unless you... take me with ya."

"Tony, there's only so many times we can shower and put the same clothes back on," Tim said.

"So have...Abby come...and bring some with her," he suggested. McGee saw something in his friend's eyes...he was truly afraid to be left there alone. So he chose not to argue.

"That reminds me," Tim said. "I...kinda promised Abby I'd give you a hug from her. She instructed me to make it an 'Abby hug'," he winced. Tony smiled from ear to ear.

"As much as I'd...love getting that hug...especially from you, Probie...I think I might...die, if anyone tried...to hug me right now."

"Tony," Ziva brushed her hand over his forehead and back into his hair. "Try to get some rest. You need your strength. We will not leave," she assured him. Tony nodded; his eyes drifting closed again. She looked up at McGee. "Tell Abby to grab my overnight bag," she told him. "It is by my desk."

Abby picked up the overnight bag from behind Ziva's desk and turned toward the filing cabinet where Tony kept spare clothes. She opened up the bag and pulled a few things from the drawer to load into it. She'd separate them later.

"Miss Sciuto," Vance's voice startled her and she spun around to face him. "I just got a call from Agent Gibbs, informing me of what happened. I take it you're going there?"

"Yes, Sir. I need to bring them all their overnight bags. I was going to come up and make sure it was alright with you..."

"It is," he said. "And hopefully you won't be there too long. As I told Gibbs, I'll be pulling whatever strings I can to get Agent DiNozzo transferred to Bethesda. I'm gonna need them here."

"For when Zanderfield is brought in," she surmised. He nodded.

"Keep me posted on his condition. He'll need to be stable to fly."

After a quick stop at McGee's, Abby was on the road. She'd packed her own things before coming in to work. She was actually nervous; not knowing what exactly to expect when she arrived at GCMH. No one had really filled her in on any of the details.

She picked up her phone and dialed McGee. After a few rings, he picked up. "Hey, Abs."

"I'm on my way now," she told him.

"Did you talk to Vance?"

"Yeah, he actually came to me. He said he's pulling strings to try and get Tony to Bethesda."

"Yeah, I overheard Gibbs saying that. Do you know how to get here?"

"I've got a GPS. I'll be fine. Do you still have a room at the hotel?"

"Yeah. You want me to call and reserve one for you?"

"That'd be awesome, Timmy, thanks. I'll see you in a couple hours."

"Bye, Abby," McGee ended the call and put his cell back into his pocket. "She's on her way," he told Ducky as they moved their lunch trays toward the cash register in the cafeteria.

"Perhaps we could offset some of the hotel cost by alternating," Ducky suggested.

"You mean, a couple of us would stay here overnight, while the others would sleep at the hotel?"

"Well, that or we could convince Jethro to go get some proper sleep after we bring him lunch. I wouldn't mind a nap, myself," he said as he handed payment to the cashier.

"You're free to use my room, if you want," Tim replied as the cashier rang up his own food. "The rooms are fairly inexpensive, so don't worry about chipping in."

"That's very generous of you, Timothy, but I insist." Tim handed his payment to the cashier. "Now, let's get back upstairs and see if we can't work a small miracle," he smirked.

"You go on ahead, Duck," Gibbs said as he chucked his empty food container into the trash. "I'll swap out with you tonight."

"Take McSleepy there, with you," Tony said before taking a sip of his water. "He's practically fallin' asleep in his mashed potatoes." Gibbs glanced over to look at Tim.

"Nice to see you're feeling better, Tony," Tim quipped. "But I guess you're right. I didn't get very much sleep," he stood and threw out his container. "Guess I'll call Abby and tell her to meet us at the hotel. Then we'll come back here later and swap out with you and Ziva," he told Gibbs. Gibbs gave him a brief nod before the two said their goodbyes to Tony and exited the room.

He turned to Tony who was still looking toward the door. "Feelin' okay?" he asked his agent. Tony turned to look at him.

"Yeah, Boss. Not bad for the moment. Can't promise I won't cry next time I start coughing..." he smirked, then looked over at Ziva. "Aren't you gonna eat, Ziva?" he asked and she looked up from her untouched salad.

"Perhaps, later," she replied, then closed the container. "I am going to use the bathroom," she stood and headed out the door.

"She seem okay to you?" Tony asked Gibbs, and Gibbs cocked his head.

"I'm guessin' she didn't get much sleep either," he decided. They were silent for a moment. "Ducky said there's some kinda brace they can give you to help you through the coughing," he said. "Want me to see if they've got it?"

"I think the nurse said she'd be bringing it by when she comes to change the IV bags," he said. Then he looked down to the blanket in front of him; a distant look enveloping his face. Gibbs studied him carefully; slightly unnerved as if something were about to happen. "Ya know, Boss," Tony said as he looked over at him once more. "I haven't gotten the chance to thank you...for doin' what you did. Diving into that freezing lake and pulling me outta the car...then givin' me CPR till ya couldn't move anymore. That was..." he looked back down, "Thank you."

"You'd have done the same for me," Gibbs said, and Tony looked back at him. "Hell, ya did do that for me."

"Big difference, actually," Tony smirked. "It was daylight, and the water was actually kinda nice," he said. Gibbs cocked his head, smirking at the semantics. Then Tony looked back down; the distant look resurfacing. "Seeing the water as the car fell..." his brow furrowed as his eyes darted around the blanket's surface, "It was somehow completely different; creepy. It was dark. Didn't know I had a fear of dark water," he smirked, but didn't look up.

"Speakin' as someone who's also drowned in a car under water," Gibbs said, and Tony looked at him. "I'd hafta say, it's not nearly as terrifying as thinkin' you might not be able to save that person." Tony looked at him with a spark of understanding. "But it wouldn't stop me from doin' it again," he clarified.

"Me either," Tony said, as Ziva came back into the room.

"Just try and do it someplace warmer, next time?" he smirked, and Tony let out a bit of a laugh. And just as quickly, he began to cough. Gibbs shot up from his chair, immediately going to his side. And as Tony lurched forward, he grabbed the pillow from behind the agent and tucked it against Tony's chest. "Hold onto that," he told him, and saw Ziva grab the basin and hold it under Tony's chin.

As Tony's eyes squeezed shut amidst his struggled efforts to cough and support himself against the pain in his overexerted chest, Ziva placed a hand on his back and rubbed it comfortingly. Her eyes met briefly with Gibbs' as they both tried to help him through this fit.

Behind closed lids, Tony recalled the last few moments of air he'd had in the car before surrendering to the water... The pain in his chest made an eerily familiar connection to what he'd felt then. And when he felt the offending fluid leave his throat, he was hit with a flashback of when he'd first been revived; the cold that had chilled him to the core...made it hurt to even take in a breath he'd so desperately needed.

His eyes flew open and his right hand shot out beside him, gripping onto the first thing it came to; the front of Gibbs' shirt. Gibbs was slightly confused by the action, but his own hand came up to the one at his chest, and he glanced at Ziva, who was putting the basin back on the table.

"Tony?" Gibbs looked at the face of his distraught friend. And suddenly Tony blinked and turned to look at his boss, slowly letting go of his shirt as he lowered himself to the bed. He was breathing laboriously; hands shaking as they came up to either side of his head. "You okay?" Gibbs asked; concern clearly marked on his face, as well as Ziva's.

"Head hurts," he told him.

"Should I get the doctor?" Ziva asked him. But suddenly he hands dropped back to his sides, and the distant stare returned to his face. "Tony?"

"I..." he started, but the monitor alarm started to go off, and she looked over to see the BP levels lit in red.

"Get the doc!" Gibbs yelled and her head whipped back to see Tony's eyes roll back as his body began to twitch. Ziva was frozen for a moment, but spun on her heels and headed toward the door. "Tony..." Gibbs' rolled him to his side as he began to shake more violently. A sudden rush of nurses came into the room, nearly plowing over Ziva before she backed out of the way.

"What happened?" one of them asked.

"Had another coughing fit, then said his head hurt," Gibbs explained as he moved out of their way. "Then he just started seizing. What's happening to him?"

"How long has he been seizing?" she asked him.

"Just started," he replied, and suddenly Tony's seizing ended, and the alarm stopped. The nurse said something, but Gibbs didn't hear her.

"Sir," she repeated, and he looked away from Tony, to her. "Does he have a history of seizures?"

"No...don't think so..."

"We need to take him to get an MRI," she told the nurses, and they pulled up the handrails and disengaged the wheel-brakes.

"I thought they did a CT scan of his brain when he got here?" Gibbs said.

"He could have a blood clot, Sir. If he does, we need to act immediately." With that said, they wheeled him hurriedly out of the room, leaving Gibbs and Ziva standing there...unsure of how to respond...


	6. Chapter 6

Gibbs quickly made his way to the Radiology ward. He'd left Ziva in the room after watching her silently swallow down whatever emotion she'd been feeling for several minutes after they'd taken Tony out of there. And he didn't even notice when she took off after him, following him from a distance as he walked.

He approached the desk where a receptionist was just hanging up her phone, and she looked up at him. "May I help you, Sir?"

"I'm wondering how long the MRI for Agent Anthony DiNozzo might be," he said in a semi-calm voice. The receptionist typed into her computer and read through a page.

"They just began, Sir. It could be anywhere between thirty and ninety minutes."

"That's a pretty wide window," Gibbs replied.

"Well, it looks like they've scheduled a full body scan to follow the head scan, if they find nothing wrong there. Are you Leroy Jethro Gibbs?" He squinted before nodding. "Just wanted to be sure I had permission to continue talking to you about him. You're listed as next of kin. All I can tell you right now, is that he is stable. So if you'd like to step out and get some air, I can give you a call once we have more information."

Gibbs leaned on the desk, "Can you tell me what they're lookin' for? Worst-case-scenario?"

"I know they're looking for a possible clot. But worst-case, they could find an aneurism. Did he complain of a headache beforehand?"

"Yeah," he felt his stomach twist.

"Well, honestly, since he had a CT scan when he was brought in, and they didn't see anything like that, it's most likely not an aneurism. Unless they simply missed it," she added, and Gibbs cringed at the idea. "But we have an excellent radiologist and neurologist. I've never personally known them to miss something like that."

"And, if they find a clot, he'll need surgery?"

"Yes. The sooner the better. His current condition, however, would make it a bit difficult. We can't sedate him for the procedure. We'd have to give him a local anesthetic, and he'd be awake for the surgery."

"He'd be awake...wouldn't the procedure involve cuttin' a hole in his skull?" Gibbs felt his stomach turn again.

"Depending on where it'd be, yes. There are ways to bypass the surgery and use blood thinners in hopes of clearing it out. But as I said before, his condition compromises the possibility." Gibbs took a breath, trying to clear his thoughts. "But there's always the possibility that it's none of those things," she said, trying to reassure him. He looked at her for a moment.

"Call me when he's done," he said, and turned to walk up the hall, just now noticing that Ziva was within earshot of where he'd just conversed with the receptionist. He slowed for just a moment as she joined his side.

"He will be alright, yes?" she asked as they walked.

"Better be," he replied flatly.

"Should we call Ducky?"

"No. No reason to right now. He needs to sleep, and that scan could be another hour and a half."

"So, where are we going?" she asked, and he stopped, causing her to turn.

"I was gonna go to the hotel; take a shower and change. But I guess that'd mean wakin' them up."

"McGee has reserved another room for Abby," she told him. "Perhaps you could use that one?" He cocked his head.

"She's not gonna be here for a while," he said.

"I can call her and see which room it is, and she can tell the manager to give you the key."

"You stayin' here, then?" he asked, narrowing his eyes a bit. Her eyes darted around his chest for a moment.

"I believe that I should," she replied. "I will wait in the room. And I will call you if they should bring him back before you return." With a nod of acknowledgment, Gibbs moved closer to her, placing a hand on the crook of her neck before kissing her forehead.

Gibbs was thankful for the hairdrier provided in the room. He didn't really want to wait for his hair to dry on its own. He'd already wasted enough time trying to find the hotel as it was. And the heated therapy of the shower had held him in there longer then he'd intended.

After stuffing his things back into his overnight bag, he slipped his coat on and fit his hat over his head. A quick stop into the office to drop off the key, he quickly made his way to the car and out of the cold breeze. But before he even put the car into reverse, Abby pulled up beside him and got out, spotting Gibbs as she ran to his passenger side door, and let herself in.

"Gibbs," she said as she shivered, closing the door. "If you're going to the hospital, I'm coming with you."

"No, you're not," he said.

"But Gibbs!" she protested.

"No, Abby," he said with a glare. "Tony's in for some tests and it's gonna be a while before you can see him anyway. You stay here; get some rest, and come over with Duck and McGee." Abby's jaw cocked as she thinned her lips, stubbornly. "I need you to, Abs. Ziva and I are gonna come back here to sleep later. I need you to take over for us."

"I need to see Tony, Gibbs. I need to know he's okay."

"He's okay."

"What kind of tests..."

"Abby..."

"What happened? All I know was that he was in the car that Zanderfield pushed into the lake from the bridge." Gibbs sighed in resignation, scratching at his forehead before he began.

"Tony drowned-"

"Oh my god!" she cut him off as her hands shot up to her mouth in shock.

"Abby! Would ya let me finish?"

"I'm sorry..." she said as she ducked her head. Gibbs sighed again.

"The water was nearly frozen. Hypothermia stopped any organ damage. Major concern right now is fluid build-up in his lungs." Gibbs could tell that Abby was holding back from asking what she wanted desperately to ask. "He's coughin' up the fluid on his own," he told her. Then he cocked his head as she stared blankly at him.

"Is it okay if I talk now?" she asked. He smirked. "What tests are being done right now?"

"MRI," he told her. "Makin' sure there aren't any more complications." If nothing else, Gibbs had a good poker face. Abby bit down on her bottom lip.

"Okay," she sighed. "Guess I am kinda tired. I didn't leave the office last night."

"Well, get some sleep, Abs. 'Cause you know when you get there, Tony will keep you up most of the night with his movie trivia," he smirked, as genuinely as he could. "Key's at the front desk. Hope ya don't mind that I used your shower."

The corner of Abby's mouth turned up. "You can use my shower any time, Bossman." Gibbs smirked once more before leaning over to kiss her cheek.

"Good work findin' Zanderfield."

Ziva paced Tony's room; patience wearing very thin. She kept glancing down at her watch, walking periodically out into the hall to see if they were bringing him back yet. But no matter how often she looked, it wasn't making time go by any faster.

"He's not back yet?" She turned to the sound of Gibbs' voice as he entered the room.

"That is what I have been asking, myself," she tilted her head before slumping down into a chair. Gibbs thought for a moment, then turned to walk back out. "Where are you going?" she asked with a furrowed brow.

"To see what the hell's takin' so long," he continued out. And as he approached radiology, the receptionist was coming from around the corner and spotted him.

"Agent Gibbs," she said, looking a bit relieved. "I was just about to call you. Agent DiNozzo has been asking for you."

"Where is he? What happened?" he was a bit concerned at her tone.

"We were almost finished with the scan when he woke up and suddenly began to panic. Sometimes, being in an enclosed space like that can trigger distress... Especially if the patient in claustrophobic."

"Never known him to be," Gibbs told her.

"In his case, though, it triggered a flashback. He thought he was back in the water." The thought caused Gibbs' stomach to churn. "Once we got him out of there, he seemed very upset and started asking for you. For some reason, he was under the impression that something had happened to you. That's when he began another coughing fit. The radiologist is going over the scans with her team and a neurologist. There are nurses in with Agent DiNozzo now." She turned as she motioned for him to follow her. She led him to the small room beside the MRI area, opening the door so he could go in.

Tony was lurched forward, much like every other coughing spell that had taken him over that day. Only, in addition to coughing up fluid, he had begun to vomit as well. Gibbs was frozen as he watched the display. His heart ached in his chest as he watched tears stream the agent's face, and he had to force himself to look away.

But soon, the retching stopped, and he heard Tony as he tried to catch his breath. His gaze didn't return to him, however, until he heard him speak. "Please...someone please tell me what happened to Gibbs..." his eyes were still clamped shut.

"I'm right here, Tony," Gibbs said as he approached the bed. Tony's eyes popped open, searching in the direction of his voice. And when he saw him, he sat up straight, as if to somehow confirm he wasn't seeing things that weren't there.

"Boss?" he blinked as fresh tears fell from his lashes. Gibbs' brow furrowed and he placed a hand on Tony's arm. Tony all but fell into Gibbs' chest. "They told me...you were dead," he said as his body shook.

"Who told you that?" he asked as his arms cradled around his shoulders in effort to comfort him.

"Kate...and Jenny..."


	7. Chapter 7

Ziva and Gibbs sat silently beside Tony's bed as the agent slept. He'd fallen asleep before Gibbs had the chance to question what he'd told him. But the words were still clear in his mind, and he couldn't wrap his head around it.

"Agent Gibbs," a hushed voice came from the doorway, and he looked up to see the radiologist standing in the doorway. She motioned with her head, for him to join her in the hall. He stood, sharing a brief glance with Ziva, and went out to meet the doctor. "We've gone over the results thoroughly," she began. "There's no physical indication of why he had the seizure. No blockage or constrictions present."

Gibbs felt a bit of relief. "We discussed the possibility of a possible overdose of iron, but what our neurologist believes, is that this was a psychogenic seizure."

"What's that mean?" he asked.

"It's a non-epileptic seizure usually brought on by a history of traumatic events such as child abuse. In Agent DiNozzo's case, it was most likely what he experienced in the accident. Although, it could be that he had, in fact, been abused as a child, and repressed those memories. The accident may have caused them to resurface in some fashion..."

Gibbs shook his head, "He wasn't physically abused."

"Are you certain of that?" she asked with raised brows. Gibbs squinted.

"He woulda told me," he almost second-guessed the answer. "I would've seen the signs. I know his father's a son of a bitch who never really gave damn about him. Even let him know as much. But Tony spent a majority of his childhood in boarding schools. Never really saw the man."

She took a moment to absorb the words. "Emotional abuse can sometimes be worse," she told him. His eyes shifted back and forth between hers as they narrowed.

"Say you're right," he started. "What happens now?"

"Well, your director seems desperate to get Agent DiNozzo transferred to Bethesda. He's stable enough to be transported. But we'd like to keep him overnight, just in case. We'll get all the information sent to Bethesda, at which point they'll do EEG monitoring. This can be done as outpatient appointments. And I suggest that it wait until after he's healed physically. But in the meantime, if you can convince him to see a therapist..."

"He's got one," Gibbs told her. "Goes to pretty good lengths not to let anyone know that, though." She nodded in understanding.

"Maybe he'll talk to you," she suggested. "He seems to have this...connection with you; trusts and respects you very much." Gibbs cocked his head.

"Thought you were a radiologist."

"Yeah," she smirked, "It doesn't take a psychiatric genius to see it, Agent Gibbs. But I did minor in psychology." At that, he smirked. "And I really do think that it would be good for him to talk to you about what happened. As long as you're willing to listen..."

Tony's nightmare...

Somewhere in his mind, he knew this wasn't how it happened. But a greater part of his mind tried to convince him now, that this was true. And it terrified him...

He felt himself being held, and he cracked open his eyes...he was so cold. He saw Gibbs. Ziva was holding him, and he looked so cold...even lifeless...

"Look what you did, Tony," he turned toward Kate's voice. "He jumped in there to save YOU!" she snarled.

"I..."

"You let him down, DiNozzo," Jenny stood beside Gibbs' paled body. "Now he's going to die."

"No..." Tony shook his head.

"You can't change it," Kate squatted close in front of him now. "You might not have meant to, but you're the reason this happened. You took out Russo."

"She was trying to kill YOU," Jenny was close beside him, very close to his face. "And Gibbs took your place."

"He can't...he can't die. Please, guys...just tell him it's not his time. Tell him like you told me!" he cried.

"Doesn't work that way, Tony," Kate said. And suddenly they were both gone...

"No! No, please! Please don't let him die!"

*~.~*

Tony awoke, enclosed in something unfamiliar. He was surrounded...white walls and light; sounds he couldn't quite comprehend. And suddenly the room became dark and began to fill with water...cold...dark water...

He was back in the car again. Maybe I can change it...maybe this is my chance. Quickly, he pulled off his belt and started pushing against the door. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he struggled. The cold was enveloping him...

And suddenly he was pulled out...Gibbs... "Gibbs! Gibbs, please! Please..." Don't...you can't do this. You can't save me in trade for your life...

He was choking now...coughing up the water from his lungs. And he felt his stomach twist and churn at the knowledge that he did nothing...couldn't save him. His stomach expelled its contents...and he collapsed. Suddenly he was aware of where he was. He was in a hospital. He was saved...and Gibbs...where was Gibbs? What happened?

"Please...someone please tell me what happened to Gibbs?" he cried. He'd never felt so heartbroken...not in a very long time.

"I'm right here, Tony," he heard Gibbs' voice, but could scarcely believe it. He opened his eyes in search for him, and sat straight up when he saw him.

Is he dead? Is he dead like Kate and Jenny? Coming here to tell me... "Boss?" he blinked and felt more tears cascade down his cheeks. Then he felt Gibbs' hand on his arm, and he knew he was real; he was alive.

The relief took over his entire being, and he fell into the man's chest. If he had the strength to put his arms around him, he would have. But he felt Gibbs' arms around his shoulders, and he couldn't help the sobs that shook his body... "They told me you were dead..."

"Who told you that?"

"Kate...and Jenny..." he cried. And he stayed like that in his arms until he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer...

When Tony woke, he had complete clarity of reality. He was, however, confused as to how he believed what was obviously a sick, twisted trick of his own mind. Tony inwardly cringed at how he'd behaved in front of Gibbs.

He opened his eyes, and realized Ziva and Gibbs were sitting patiently beside him. When Gibbs saw that he was up, he stood and went to his side. "Feelin' okay?" he asked. Tony pushed himself up against the inclined head of the bed.

"Yeah, Boss. Sorry about...earlier," he looked sheepishly down at the blanket covering him.

"Been wantin' to ask what you meant," he said, searching the agent's face. "Who ya told me made you think I was dead..." Tony looked up at him.

"It was just a...really creepy dream," he told him before looking back down.

"I can imagine," he cocked his head. "What I guess I'm wondering, is why you'd even begin to believe it."

Ziva stayed seated, knowing that if she were to approach the bed, Tony might not be willing to continue. Tony didn't look up from the blanket, but his eyes darted around the surface.

"When I uh...when I drowned," he began, "I went somewhere," he glanced up at him briefly. "Kate was there," he smirked. "I don't know if it was real, but it felt like it was. She told me it wasn't my time." Gibbs furrowed his brow as Tony continued. "I remember being brought back, then. Remember seein' you for a minute. Then I went back to that place..."

"Where you saw Kate?" he asked. Tony looked at him. Gibbs' face didn't seem to show any disbelief or judgment.

"Yeah," he told him. "But she wasn't there anymore. It was...someone else," he looked back down, thinking this might hurt his boss somehow.

"Jen," Gibbs surmised, and Tony looked at him again, nodding after a moment.

"What she told me was...kinda personal."

"So what happened in the nightmare today?" he asked. Tony swallowed. Then after a moment he smirked, possibly to mask his own fear.

"Some strange part of my mind created them in a different light," he explained. "They told me...you died...because you saved me," he looked down again. "That everything that happened was a direct result of something I did. And that it cost you your life..."

"You seem to do a lot of that," Gibbs said, and Tony looked at him in question. "Takin' blame for things that aren't in your control." Tony looked at him for moment, then looked away, almost completely in the opposite direction. Gibbs turned a glance at Ziva, motioning for her to leave them alone for a moment.

She stood, quietly, and made her way out of the room. Tony caught sight of her as she exited, and he was grateful. It was hard enough to show his emotion to Gibbs. But Ziva didn't want a weak man...He couldn't show her that side of him.

"The doc tell you ya had a seizure?" Gibbs asked, and Tony's head shot back to look at him; concern and embarrassment painting his face. "That's why you were getting an MRI. They didn't find anything wrong. But they think it had somethin' to do with repressed childhood memories."

Tony smiled, the infamous nervous-cover-up smile they all knew too well. "Boss, some things are better left buried."

"Doc doesn't think so," Gibbs said. Tony's smile faded.

"Really, Boss, I have plenty of shit memories from my childhood. If there's more...something I've somehow graciously managed to block out...I really, really just...don't wanna know." Gibbs watched the conflicting emotions fizzle in and out as Tony tried to contain them as best he could.

"Don't have to right now, Tony," he told him. "We're goin' home tomorrow. You're getting transported to Bethesda for however much longer you need to be there. And you're gonna get better. Then you're gonna talk to me."

"Boss..."

"No, Tony. This is important, whether you like it or not. I wanna help you, but you gotta let me. You gotta be willing to trust me with this."

"I trust you, Boss," Tony said before clenching his jaw.

"Good. Then trust me when I tell you, this could happen again if you don't figure out why it happened. If you'd rather talk to a professional, I'd understand. But if you wanna talk to me, I'll be there for you. You know that, right?"

Tony looked straight ahead, focusing somewhere in the air in contemplation. Then he nodded, though still unsure if he was comfortable digging into his own past. But he pushed the issue aside in his mind for the time being and looked at his boss. "So, I'm getting outta here tomorrow?"

"Vance pulled some strings," he told him. "Looks like you get a chopper ride in the morning."

McGee was startled awake by the ringing of his phone; seemed to be his alarm clock lately... "McGee," he said sleepily into the cell, without even bothering to check the caller ID.

"What room are you in?"

"Abby? Are you here? What time is it?" he pushed himself up.

"It's almost eight. I have your overnight bag, so tell me what room you're in before I freeze to death!"

"Why are you outside?!" he sprang for the door, opening it and finding the shivering goth not far down the walk.

"Timmy!" she bolted inside and closed the door behind her. "Go get ready! We've gotta switch out with Gibbs and Ziva. They probably haven't even eaten."

"They're at a hospital, Abs; not the desert," he said, taking his bag and pulling out a fresh set of clothes. "I'm gonna take a quick shower. Why don't you go see if Ducky's up? He's right next door to the right." McGee disappeared into the bathroom, and Abby turned around and opened her phone again.

Gibbs had left only moments ago to get coffee from the cafeteria, leaving Ziva alone with Tony. She decided to get up from her chair and sit beside him on the side of the bed. Tony had been sleeping for a couple of hours now, but she longed to speak with him. The chance she'd be alone with him again over the next few days, was slim.

As she sat, her hand went gently to his hairline, straightening a messy part of his hair. Tony's eyes fluttered open to look at her, and his lips curled up a bit. "Is it time for my sponge bath?" he smirked.

Ziva smiled at his humor. "It is definitely time for a bath," she squinted, "But I will not be the one doing it."

"Aw, c'mon, Zi. It'd be fun," he grinned, and he watched her face as she shook off the amused smile, and realized her fingers were still playing absentmindedly at his hairline. His face became more serious as he brought his hand up to take hers. "Listen," he said quietly. "There was a lot of stuff that went through my head when I was down there..." he swallowed. "Things I wished I woulda said; thought I'd had all the time in the world to."

Ziva's brow furrowed as she watched him struggle to keep himself composed. "Tell me," she encouraged as she turned her hand in his, to hold it properly.

His eyes darted back and forth between hers as he contemplated whether or not he should tell her. There were always reasons he hadn't said it before. Most of which orbited around the uncertainty of her response; the fear of rejection...and ultimately, the fear that it would somehow take away what they already had.

But when he was in that water, he'd never felt more regretful. Not just about this, but the things he needed them all to know. It would be cheating if he didn't tell her... "I..." he started, but felt a familiar constriction begin in his chest. He swallowed, attempting to stall it. "I love..." he couldn't fend off the coughing any longer.

Ziva scrambled for the basin as he began the fit, and moved it in front of him, putting a supportive hand on his back as he lurched forward. His hands gripped down on either side of the basin, but he was grateful for the brace they'd finally given him. It fit snugly around his ribcage, providing some sense of security and support through his efforts to bring up the fluid.

Ziva's heart ached for him as he struggled. She wished there was some way she could help him; other than handing him a basin and standing there beside him. But his words had made her head swim a bit...his almost-confession of how he felt.

As the coughing subsided, she reached for a tissue and handed it to him as she took the basin. "Thanks," he said, weakly. "Sorry...wasn't exactly the best timing..." he wiped his mouth and tossed the paper into the trash bin beside his bed.

She brushed her hand through his hair again, watching him carefully as he laid back against the bed. A small smile played on her lips. "Timing is not always everything," she told him, and their eyes met.

"Sometimes it is," he said, "Especially if you run out of time to say it." She looked down at his hand and took it in hers. "I meant that, by the way," he said, and she looked at him again. "I love you. And you don't have to say anything...I just wanted you to know. In case...something happens."

Ziva shook her head, "You will be fine, Tony," she told him. "You are getting better. We have all the time in the world."

"Tony!" they both turned their heads to see Abby come into the room, followed by McGee and Ducky.

"Abby," McGee warned, "Remember what I told you; be gentle."

"Hey, Abs," Tony grinned as she approached the bed and sat up and bit to allow her a hug.

"I was gonna get you a balloon, but the gift shop is closed," she said as she looked him over.

"That's okay," Tony said. "You shouldn't have come all the way here. Looks like I'm getting shipped over to Bethesda tomorrow."

"Yeah, I know," she said as she sat on the side of the bed. "But I couldn't wait that long. Had to see for myself that you're okay."

"Tony," Ziva stole his attention for a moment, "I will be back in the morning." He gave her a small smile, and she turned to Abby. "Play nice," she smirked.

"Don't worry, Ziva," Ducky said as he found a seat, "We'll keep an eye on Abigail," he said with a hint of sarcasm.

"Oh, you'll need our room keys," Tim said, fishing into his pocket for the hotel card-key.

"Oh yes," Ducky stood to get his as well. "Give this one to Jethro. I met him briefly in the hall as he filled me in, and gave him the car keys, but this slipped my mind. He said he'd be warming up the car, waiting for you."

"He filled you in, then?" she asked as she retrieved both keys.

"He did," Ducky told her. "By the way, if you haven't already eaten supper, there's a cafe in the hotel that's open until eleven." Ziva nodded in acknowledgment, then turned to Tony once more; smiling softly before she turned to leave.

Gibbs absentmindedly shuffled through his bag on the bed of the hotel room. He felt restless; as if there was something he was forgetting. Something in his gut told him something was wrong. They'd only gotten to the hotel maybe ten minutes ago; both deciding they weren't hungry enough to try out the cafe.

He picked up his cell, checking for missed calls, but there was nothing. Still unable to shake the unmistakeable feeling, he pushed up from the bed and went for his coat. If nothing else, he could go to that cafe and chance whatever coffee they had to offer. He opened the door and stepped out, turning to pull it quietly closed, so as to not disturb any other occupants. But he saw something from the corner of his eye to his right and did a double-take.

"Ziva?" he was surprised and a bit shocked to see her sitting down with her back against McGee's room's door. Her only response was a small glance in his direction to acknowledge him. Immediately, he went to her side, noticing the shivering that had somewhat taken her over. "What the hell are you doin' out here?" he asked as he crouched down.

"I...could not get the key to work," she told him.

"Why didn't ya come get me? It's freezin' out here..."

"I wanted to...understand..." she closed her eyes. Gibbs pulled her up as he stood.

"Come on, let's get you inside," he pulled her with him to his door and unlocked it, leading her inside. After shutting the door, he lead her to sit on the bed, then pulled the comforter down and around her shivering body. He sat down beside her, "What'd you mean by 'tryin' to understand'?"

"The cold...and the darkness." Gibbs flinched at the realization of what she was saying.

"You think that's gonna help him?" It was all he could think to respond with.

"What else can I do?" she turned her head to look at him. "There is nothing else I can do to help Tony..." her eyes held unshed tears. Gibbs' brow furrowed and he shook his head.

"You aren't gonna help him by hurtin' yourself, Ziva," he told her.

"That was not my intention," her voice shook. "It was circumstantial...eventually I would have come to you."

"Before or after you needed medical attention?" he said with an aggravated tone.

"You do not understand," she shot up from the bed, leaving the blanket behind as she stepped a few paces and turned to face him. "I should have been the one to jump in after him. But I hesitated...you both could have been killed. It was heart-wrenching enough to know that Tony was trapped down there...but when you jumped in..." she couldn't contain her emotion any longer, and her words came with tears she struggled to hold back, "If you had not made it...I would have been to blame for both your deaths..."

Gibbs stood from the bed and took her into his arms, "Ziver..."

"I am sorry, Gibbs," she curled into the embrace, "I know this is part of the job. But the thought of losing any of you...this is my family. It is hard to watch him struggle like this, and I can do nothing but stand there..."

"I know, Ziver," his hand went to the back of her head, petting gently to comfort her. "Scares the hell outta me too." And somehow, his words gave her great comfort. She wasn't the only one afraid, and the strongest person she knew, felt the same as she did...


	8. Chapter 8

The next day at NCIS...

McGee stood in the observation room looking through the glass into the interrogation room at Holly Zanderfield. She was sitting there, her head resting against the table as if completely defeated. Tim's arms were folded at his chest, waiting for the moment Gibbs would enter that room and question her.

Ziva was at Bethesda with Tony as he got settled in. Abby and Ducky were hard at work doing what they did best. It was only a matter of time before Tim would have to begin the report on the Zanderfield case. In all hopes, this would sum up the whole thing.

Gibbs entered the interrogation room, calmly closing the door behind him before taking a seat in front of the emotionless woman at the table. The folder he brought in with him was carefully placed on the table in front of him. After some long moments of silence, Holly pulled her head up from the table and straightened in her chair, waiting for the agent to say something.

He looked at her as he opened the file. "I assume you know exactly why you're here," Gibbs said.

"For killing one of your partners," she replied flatly.

"No. Solicitation and conspiracy to murder your fiance. And the attempted murder of a federal agent."

"Attempted?" now Holly's emotion showed through clearly.

"Disappointed?" Gibbs asked.

"He killed Max..." her eyes shone with tears.

"You had Max kill Arwin," he squinted.

"Max was saving me," she told him. "It was defense..."

"The way he was killed, leads me to believe otherwise. It was premeditated, and both of you planned to leave the country afterward." As he spoke, Holly had begun to unbutton her shirt. "What're you doin'?" he asked with narrowed eyes.

"Showing you what my finance did to me before we planned to get rid of him," she said with anger. Then she pulled open the long-sleeved blouse, and let it fall from her arms. The camisole she wore, hid most of her torso, but her arms were sleeves of bruises. Her collarbones were the same sickly color. "Do I need to show you more?" she said as tears soaked her cheeks.

"No," Gibbs said, and she pulled her blouse back on. "Sympathy no longer has a place when you took care of the problem yourself, then tried to kill my agent," he said flatly. She let out a small laugh.

"I thought your agent was dead. Thought I had avenged Max's death...but I felt no peace," she said as her eyes glazed over and focused in the air between them. "Nothing...matters anymore. So if you want to put me away, I won't fight you."

"There's one thing you just don't understand," Gibbs said with narrowed eyes. "When Arwin hurt you, you went to the wrong person for help. You shoulda come to us," he leaned in a little closer when she didn't look at him, and now she was forced to. "Russo was killed...because you went to him." Holly's chin began to quiver. "And you tried to kill an agent who could very well have taken care of the situation, had you come to us."

"I'm sorry..." she cried; breaking down as her head fell into her hands.

"Tell that to the men you killed. And the agent whose life you disrupted," he said as he pushed up from the chair. "I want your confession," he pressed a legal pad and pen over to her as her hands left her face. "Everything, including what Arwin did to you."

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Childhood... Tony had been contemplating it since Gibbs had brought it up. He'd tried desperately not to, however. He'd been able to fend it off until he arrived at Bethesda. Scratch that...he'd been able to fend it off until he woke up alone at Bethesda. It was only a few minutes, but it was long enough to hear Gibbs' words in his head again. It started him thinking back...wondering what it meant.

Funny thing was, there wasn't much childhood to go over, where it involved his parents. School after school, he could scratch off the list; school-trauma was something every kid dealt with. So he tried to work backward from that point.

Oddly enough, the moments leading up to being sent away were fuzzy. His mind clouded somewhat at his mother's passing, and ended up in his first day at boarding school number one. Ignoring that, he went a little further back. Scouring his mind for any unusual...well, any extremely unusual moments that could stand out from the memories.

Tony's view of them, however, had changed since he last thought long and hard about it. His father wasn't the man he thought he was when he was in those memories. It was almost impossible to separate those views now; to look at them in the same light. He'd been lied to...his whole life, and to even recall the trickery was a bit painful.

Luckily, Ziva came into the room sporting a large cup of coffee and a smile. "You are awake," she said as she found a seat beside him.

He smirked, "I feel a little like Dorothy," he said, "Knocked out in a black and white Kansas, picked up and carried by a tornado, and set down in techni-colored Oz."

Ziva squinted. "I have no idea what that means, Tony."

"The Wizard of Oz, Ziva...never mind. So what's my sentence? How long do I gotta stay here?"

"You seem agitated," she said.

"I'm a little restless. Been stuck in a bed for a while, ya know...sorry," he said with a sigh.

"Perhaps we can go for a walk?" she suggested. Tony grinned.

"Farthest I've gotten is the bathroom and back. I dunno..."

"Well you will not know unless you try," she told him as she set her cup down on the side table. "I will ask the nurse if it is okay." She stood and headed out of the room as he had no energy to argue with her. He took a breath, letting it out slowly as he felt almost like he needed to yawn. But more like a lump in his throat...more like he was sad, but didn't know why.

Depression was probably normal after what happened to him...it'd pass, right? What reason did he have to be upset? He was alive. He was getting better. He was...well, closer to home, and everyone he cared about was okay. So why was there an aching in his chest, much deeper then the sore tissue and fluid?

"They said you can walk," Ziva said as she returned, "As long as I bring a wheelchair with us, in case you need to sit down." Tony responded with a forced smile, which Ziva detected immediately. "Come on, Tony. It will be good for you to stretch your legs before they become useless," she gave him a smirk that he couldn't refuse, and he started to push himself upright.

"You realize I've gotta lug all this stuff with me, right?" he motioned to the IV pole fitted with the oxygen tank.

"It has wheels. Now quit being a baby, and get up," she gave him an amused glare. After a few moments of silent protest, he gave in and shifted his legs off the side of the bed.

"Shoes?" he asked. Ziva opened the side table drawer.

"Slippers," she said as she pulled the set of navy blue monstrosities from the drawer.

"Not exactly 'Gucci', but I suppose they'll do," he said as he allowed her to slip them onto his feet. "Thanks," he told her as she straightened up and offered her arm for him to grab hold of.

"If you can make it to the cafeteria, I will buy you lunch," she challenged him.

"If I don't make it to the cafeteria, you still owe me a drink. And I'm okay with that," he decided.

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One week later...

"Gibbs doesn't have to do this, Duck," Tony said in the passenger seat of the M.E's Morgan.

"He insisted you stay at his house until you're fully recovered, Anthony, and I suggest you don't argue," Ducky told him as they neared Gibbs' house.

"Really, though...I don't wanna put him outta his way. Everyone's been watchin' over me like I'm gonna spontaneously combust. I can take care of myself."

"Yes, I'm sure you can. You're x-rays came back clear, showing the fluid is gone, and you've seemed to take a turn for the better. But you still need to regain your strength before returning to duty. Left to your own vices, I'm afraid you'd end up couch-bound, watching countless movies and eating a diet of pizza and Chinese food."

"Hey, Chinese food has healing powers. It's a proven fact," Tony defended. The doctor gave a small laugh.

"You do realize I could've left you waiting for Jethro to be done at work to come get you, and then we wouldn't be having this conversation?" he asked, and Tony sank a bit in his seat, crossing his arms. Ducky glanced at him and noted the odd expression on the agent's face. "Is something bothering you?"

"No," he replied, glancing at the doctor, who raised his brows at the quick reply. "Yeah, I guess," Tony said as he turned to look out his window. "He's gonna want me to talk about my childhood..."

"Ah, yes. He mentioned it back in Garrett County."

"Thing is, I've been thinkin' real hard about it, and I can't seem to figure out what the hell it is I'm supposed to find."

"Well that's why they're called 'repressed' memories, Anthony. Think of it as a locked drawer in a filing cabinet. You put something there that you never intended to access again, and eventually even forgot the drawer was there. Then you stumbled upon that drawer after going through something traumatic; practically fell out of its hiding place and into your present files. Now you're unsure where that drawer fits, but you can't open it to find out because you've misplaced the key."

"And Gibbs is supposed to help me pick the lock?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. Or a psychologist."

"Like you..."

"Well...I would be willing to help you. But that's your call. You do have a therapist."

"Yeah...well...let's say I chose you and Gibbs; what would be the course of action to unlock that drawer?" he asked as he glanced over at him.

"Seeing as you were unsuccessful in finding the information on your own, perhaps I could try my hand at regression hypnosis," he suggested. Tony grinned and let out a small laugh.

"Really, Duck? You believe in that kinda stuff?"

"I've seen it done in the past, Tony, so I can't dismiss the possibility that it might work for you."

"As long as you don't make me do anything silly, like make me believe I'm a chicken at the ring of a bell..." This earned a laugh from Ducky.

"As amusing at that might be, I promise not to do anything of the sort."

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Gibbs stood, leaning against the mantle with a cup of coffee in hand, as Ducky sat in a chair across from the couch where Tony was sitting. Tony glanced nervously between the two of them. "Why does this feel like the principle's office, and I'm about to be reprimanded for something I don't even remember doing?"

Gibbs smirked at the comment, but stayed put where he was. Ducky, however, replied, "May I remind you, there's nothing to be reprimanded for..."

"You say that now," Tony retorted, "But we don't know what we're gonna find up here," he pointed to his head. As he lowered his hand, Ducky and Gibbs' smiles faded when the agent's hand was shaking, before he pulled it into his lap. "Whatever it is, I feel like it's not good," he told them.

"Whatever it is," Gibbs said, and Tony looked over at him, "We'll be here to help ya through."

"Quite correct," Ducky said, pulling Tony's attention back to him. Tony took a deep breath and let it go slowly. "Just let us know when you're ready to begin."

"Let's just get it over with," Tony said. "What do I do?"

"All you have to do is relax. Sit back," Ducky told him. Tony leaned back into the couch, moving his head from side to side, stretching his neck a bit before settling. "Before we begin, can I ask if there were any pieces of your memory you found difficult to access when you were thinking about it before? You said you'd been trying..."

"Yeah," Tony said as his tried to recall the specifics. "After my mother died...I can't seem to remember very much of anything up until I started boarding school."

"You were eight, at the time, correct?" Tony nodded. "Then that's where we'll try and begin. Phones are all off, Jethro?" he asked as he glanced to him, and Gibbs nodded. Ducky looked back at Tony. "Alright, now all you have to do is relax," he told him. "Close your eyes, lay your head back, and start relaxing each muscle, one-by-one. Start with your feet..." Ducky slowly suggested each muscle he could think of, until Tony seemed completely relaxed.

"Now, I want you to try and remember back when you were eight years old, Anthony," Ducky told him. "Think of a happy memory you shared with your mother..."

Tony's eyes moved under the lids. "I...remember sweeping up the kitchen floor," he said.

"Sweeping? This is a happy memory?" he asked. Gibbs squinted as he watched Tony's face.

"My mom was crying. She and Dad got in a fight and...he knocked over the table. Broke everything that was on it. So...I cleaned it up while she was crying in the bedroom after he left. And when she saw what I did, she...had this huge smile on her face. She hugged me and told me I was a good boy," he said; his face harboring conflicting emotion.

"How about another good memory after that?" he suggested. Tony's brow furrowed in thought. He searched his mind, but could find nothing.

"I..." his head pulled upright.

"What about your ninth birthday? Do you remember that?"

Tony's head ducked down; his breath quickened and his face contorted. "There's nothing...she's not there...she hasn't been there for a while."

"Well then, let's back up," Ducky thought for a moment. "When your mother got sick, was she in a hospital?"

"Yes. That's where she died..."

"And w-"

"It's your fault!" his voice was enraged, and his arms wrapped protectively around his middle. Gibbs was confused by the sudden change in Tony's demeanor, and he stood from where he'd been leaning.

"Who?" Ducky asked after a moment of confusion.

"It's your fault she's dead, Anthony!" his face was red with fury. Gibbs shot a glance at Ducky.

"Who's yelling at you, Tony?" Ducky asked.

"My father..." Tony's voice changed to a small whimper; his face becoming anguished. "If it wasn't for you, she would still be here!" his voice was angered again.

"Where are you and your father, Tony?"

"Home...he was drinking. He was drunk...it was after the funeral." he was suddenly squirming in his seat, pulling his knees up and propping his feet into the cushion in front of him. And then, he was the little boy again... "No, Dad, please..." his voice was small and trembling. "I'm sorry...I didn't...I didn't know! Please!" and he propelled himself into the corner of the couch, curling into a protective ball. Then...he was biting back screams...tears streaking his face.

"Stop this, Duck!" Gibbs said as he made his way around to the other side of the couch.

"Anthony, I'm going to count back from three and you're going to wake up. You're safe now. Do you understand? Three...two...one..." By the time he'd counted down, Gibbs had made it to Tony's side. Tony's eyes opened and he scrambled out of the position he was in, flinging himself off of the couch and nearly tripping over the coffee table.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs stood and grabbed hold of Tony's shoulders. Tony pulled away and maneuvered around them, heading away from the room.

"I told you...I didn't wanna remember..." he said; his voice cracking. He left their sight and shut himself in the hall bathroom.

Gibbs turned to Ducky who was standing now as well. But he couldn't even think of what to ask him, and he was wondering if this had been a bad idea after all. "Give him some time," Ducky told him. "It's better that he knows."

"How's it better? Obviously his dad was worse then he even remembered. Who knows what he did to him?"

"He knows now," Ducky said. "And you said it yourself; he couldn't go back into the field with the possibility of another trauma-induced seizure. As easy as it was to bring that memory forth, it was bound to surface soon, anyway. Lucky it happened here and not somewhere inappropriate."

"Ya think he...ya think his father did this often?" he asked with a furrowed brow.

"If that were the case, I don't think he would've repressed this one memory. No, I believe this was an isolated incident, and it may very well be why his father sent him off to boarding schools; he didn't want to end up repeating the actions."

"One time is still too many, Duck," he said and turned to head toward the hall bathroom. He stopped at the door when he heard the water running. Instead of knocking, he decided to lean against the wall across from it and wait. He wasn't sure what to expect when the door opened, and he sure as hell wasn't prepared to know how to handle his agent's self-dilemma. But he'd figure it out when it came to it.

The water turned off and he could hear the door knob as it was turned. Tony opened the door and stood there in the doorway when he realized Gibbs was right there.

"You okay?" Gibbs asked.

"Yeah," he grinned with his reply. "Kinda like a dream, ya know? Terrifying for a few minutes after you first wake up, but then you realize it wasn't really all that bad..." he turned the light off in the bathroom and stepped out. "Sorry I freaked out on you guys," he said as they made their way back into the living room.

"Nonsense, dear boy," Ducky told him. "Would you care for something to drink? I was going to make myself some tea..."

"I don't suppose a beer would be part of my dietary restrictions?" he smirked as he followed him into the kitchen.

"We might be able to make an exception, this once," Ducky said with a grin as he opened the fridge.

"Thanks, Ducky," Tony said as he sat at the table.

"Grab me one, while you're in there, Duck," Gibbs said as he sat down in the chair beside Tony. Ducky sat the two beers down in front of them on the table before turning to grab the kettle and fill it with water.

Tony popped the top off of his beer, as did Gibbs, and took to staring at the amber liquid through the glass; perhaps a bit longer than he'd intended. His thoughts wandered to newly discovered disappointments. Quickly, he pushed them aside. "So, what am I supposed to do with this new information?" he asked no one in particular.

Ducky set the kettle on the stove and turned to him. "That, of course, is up to you, Anthony. But the healthy course of action would begin with talking about it."

"No offense, but I'm still tryin' to make sense of it, myself..." Tony took a long sip of his beer.

"Not sure what he did is supposed to make sense, Tony," Gibbs told him. Tony glanced briefly at him.

"Not really what he did, as much as what he said," he tapped on the bottle with his middle and pointer fingers, nervously.

"He was drunk. Didn't know what he was talkin' about. You can't honestly believe what he said? Obviously he was wrong..." Gibbs tried to reason.

"I don't honestly know anything," he pushed from the table and stood. "Every time I think I've somehow figured it out or even started to understand my past..." he backed away from the table, fighting off whatever emotion was trying to climb out of him, "Something always comes along and twists it right back around on me." He hit the door frame and stopped. "I'm gonna go out on the deck," he told them before escaping to his destination.

Gibbs stood from the table and pulled out his cell. Ducky looked up at him, "What are you up to, Jethro?"

"Gonna make a call," he told him. "Tony's got questions. I'm gonna find 'em."

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"Have any plans this evening, McGee?" Ziva asked as they began putting away files as they readied to leave work.

"I was thinkin' about checking in on Tony later," he said. "What about you? Got any plans?"

"I thought I might go out tonight," she said with a sigh, "But I am not sure." Before he could respond, his cell began to ring. He pulled it from his pocket and checked the caller ID. Slightly surprised, he glanced briefly at Ziva before answering.

"Hey, Boss. Everything okay?" he asked with a furrowed brow.

"You still at the office?" Gibbs asked.

"Yeah."

"Need you to do some digging..."

Ziva watched McGee's face as it changed from confusion, to concern, and back again. He sat down in front of his computer and began to type. "I'm on it, Boss. I'll call you as soon as I find anything," he said before ending the call.

"What does he want you to look for?" Ziva asked as she approached him. McGee looked up at her for a moment before getting back to his search.

"He wants me to find out everything I can about Tony's parents," he said. "Specifically, he wants me to find medical records from when Tony was a kid. Everything between age seven and ten."

"Medical records?" she furrowed a brow. "Is it even possible there would be anything on file from that long ago?"

"I'm not sure, but I'm gonna find out," he replied without looking away from the screen.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked.

"Maybe," he looked up at her again. "Abby's probably still here. Can you go ask her if she could find out what she can about his parents? If we split up the work, we can get it done a lot faster..."


	9. Chapter 9

"Thank you, Dr. Harvin," McGee said into his desk phone. "I appreciate your help." He ended the call and dialed Abby as awaited the fax Dr. Harvin was sending, containing Tony's pediatric medical records.

"Hey, Timmy," Abby said as she picked up. "I guessed as to what hospital Tony's mother might have gone to while they lived in Long Island. Brookhaven Memorial; I called and verified...I was right!"

"Okay. What'd you find out?"

"Well, she was being treated for cancer, but she was originally admitted after falling down the stairs in their home. When they were doing the x-rays, they found the cancer. She started treatment immediately, but she never left the hospital. Poor Tony..."

"Anything else?"

"Well...what else do you want?"

"I dunno, Abs. Anything...anything about his dad?"

"The guy is pretty untraceable. All I've found about him is where he lived, which was where they all lived as a family, up until Tony's mom died. There's no updated address after that."

"Okay. Thanks."

"Well, what about you? Did you find Tony's medical records?"

"Getting the fax now, Abby. I'm gonna have to call Gibbs here in a minute. I'll talk to you later," he ended the call and walked to the fax machine. From the corner of his eye, he saw Ziva walking into the bullpen.

"Any luck?" she asked.

"Whatever Gibbs is looking for should be right here," he said as he pulled the first page that finished, and turned it around so he could read it. "They had a private pediatrician come to their home. I spoke with him on the phone and he told me there would be a page with pictures as well."

"Pictures?" Ziva queried.

"I didn't think to ask," he smirked. "Figured they'd be self-explanatory."

"A picture of an eight-year-old Tony DiNozzo," Ziva smirked. "This, we could use for blackmail, yes?" Tim smiled as he pulled the next couple of pages and flipped them over in his hands to look at them. Then suddenly his smile faded. The page in his hand contained several photos; all of them showing harsh bruising. None showed his face...

"I don't think we can use these for blackmail, Ziva," he said as he handed the photo-page to her and began to scour the information on the second page.

Ziva's eyes darted around the page, "This is Tony?" she asked. "How did this happen?"

"According the his records, Dr. Harvin asked Tony's father what happened, and he told him he'd fallen down the stairs."

"There is no way that he was hurt this badly from falling down stairs," she furrowed her brows at him. McGee took a deep breath and met her eyes.

"I think this is what Gibbs is looking for..."

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"It's been a couple hours," Gibbs said as he glanced out to the deck again. "I know it's been a nice day, but it'll get dark soon. He shouldn't be out there." Before Ducky could reply, there was a knock at the door. The two shared a glance before Gibbs made his way to answer.

"Boss," McGee was revealed as the door opened. "I think we found what you asked-"

"I thought you were gonna call me," he interrupted.

"Y- yeah, Boss...I thought you'd need to see this for yourself," he handed him the fax papers. "The only thing that's not in there is the information on his mother. She was apparently originally admitted after falling down the stairs. While they did x-rays, they discovered the cancer. She never came home from the hospital."

As Gibbs looked over the photos, he ran a hand down his face. Flipping through to the descriptive page, he began to read over the injuries and the alleged cause. "Duck," Gibbs said as he turned to walk back into the living room where Ducky was now standing. "Tell me, does this look like something that'd happen from fallin' down stairs?" he handed him the photo-page.

"Ziva didn't think so," McGee said as he closed the door behind him.

"Yes, I'd have to agree with her presumption," Ducky said. "This, of course, must be what we witnessed Anthony recalling."

"What- what do you mean?" Tim asked. Gibbs and Ducky looked at him.

"None of your business, McNosey," they all turned to Tony's voice and saw him in the doorway leading to the kitchen, right before he looked away and turned toward the guest room.

"Maybe...I should go," McGee said as he turned toward the front door.

"Is this everything you found?" Gibbs asked as Tim opened the door.

"Other than the fact that his father hasn't had a known address since then? Yeah," he stopped and turned around, "But Abby and Ziva are working on finding out where he is now. I told them to call me if they find something...at which point, I would call you, of course."

"Tell them to stop," Gibbs said. Tim furrowed a brow and opened his mouth to object, but Gibbs continued, "We'll look for him when Tony's ready to find him." McGee searched Gibbs' face, knowing nothing would be revealed by it. But he nodded, despite his curiosity.

"Boss...all I'm going on here is speculation," he told him, "But if Tony needs anything...well..." Gibbs put a hand on his arm.

"Okay, McGee," he said. "Good work, today. Thank you." Slightly surprised by the appreciative words, Tim quickly nodded and turned to leave.

Something is definitely wrong, McGee thought as he made his way to his car...

*~.~*

"For a crappy con-artist, DiNozzo Sr is excellent at staying invisible," Abby said.

"That crappy con-artist may have abused Tony when he was just a little boy," Ziva said. "So we need to make him un-invisible."

"What did you just say?" Abby's eyes were wide as she looked at Ziva.

"As much as I believe that this is none of our business, Gibbs asked us to dig into Tony's childhood. Whatever we should find, we should keep confidential. I do not think Tony would appreciate our prying eyes; even if we are following orders." As she finished the sentence, Abby's desk phone rang. She continued her questioning look at the agent until Ziva pressed the speaker button to answer.

"Abs?" McGee's voice sounded on the other line.

"We are both here, McGee," Ziva replied.

"Good. Gibbs said to stop the search."

"What?" Abby protested. "Timmy, we can't just let this go!"

"Abby, whatever we think all of this means, it's really not our business. Gibbs wants to wait until Tony's ready to do it himself."

"What do you mean, 'it's not our business'?" Abby argued. "Tony is part of our family! If he's hurting...there's no way we can just sit around and do nothing-"

"Whatever this is, it happened when he was a kid. There's not much we can really do about that right now. We're just gonna have to wait till he's ready to let us in on it. It's not fair to just assume the responsibility. Gibbs asked us to look; not Tony. And now he's asking us to stop. So until we hear any different, we need to respect his privacy." They were both a bit surprised when Tim ended the call before they could respond.

"McGee is right," Ziva said after a few moments of silence. Abby squinted and cocked her jaw before reaching out to end the computer's search program. But Ziva grabbed her arm before she reached the keyboard. Ziva shot her a glare. "He is right, but there is no harm in looking," she told her. "When Tony is ready, we will have a head start in helping him to find what he is looking for."

Abby watched her for a moment before Ziva's grip on her arm relaxed and released it. Then she gave her a small grin; a silent agreement, and allowed the search to continue. "You stayed with him all day yesterday in the hospital," Abby said. "Did he talk about anything like this? I mean...was he acting weird or anything?"

Ziva's gaze wandered a bit as she recalled the past few days. "He has seemed...a bit distant lately. I thought, perhaps, that he needed some space from me. I have been on his case, making him get up and walk; things like that. I tried to get him to talk, but he would...redirect the conversation," she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I thought that maybe he was...regretting something he said while we were still in Garrett County. And that he wished for me to let him be for a while."

"Something he said?" she pried.

"Obviously, I was wrong," Ziva corrected. "I had no idea that this was what he was preoccupied with."

"Well, if what we're assuming is really what he's dealing with right now, my chief question at this point would be, why is it just coming up now? He's talked about his parents before, but he never mentioned this kinda stuff..."

"Maybe he did not remember," Ziva's gaze wandered in thought. "Maybe the concussion he received in the crash, jarred his memory..." she met Abby's eyes again...

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"G'night, Duck," Gibbs told the M.E as he headed out the door.

"Goodnight, Jethro. Don't hesitate to call if anything should happen that you need my assistance." Gibbs shut the door after giving his friend a nod of acknowledgment, and he turned to head toward the kitchen. But he heard a sound coming from the guest room that made him pause.

At first, he thought it was coughing, but as he quietly approached the door, he heard hitched breath that was unmistakeably Tony trying to keep his crying muted. Gibbs felt an ache in his chest as he reached for the door knob and slowly opened the door.

The room was dark; he'd been sitting there on the floor, his back up against the side of the bed, probably for the past hour. The light from the hall washed into the room and made Tony look up. Gibbs flicked on the wall switch before approaching; he moved to sit beside Tony on the floor, as his senior agent tried to hide his face. Gibbs remained silent, patient and waiting for Tony to be ready to talk.

"He was right," Tony said finally; his voice cracking with his words. Gibbs narrowed his eyes as he waited for elaboration. Tony sniffled, "I had a...toy truck I'd been playing with on the steps," he said. "Guess I left it there," he swallowed. "My mom had been drinkin' a little that day, so when she went to come downstairs, she didn't even notice it there. She stepped on it, and it sent her doing cartwheels down the stairs... Boss...I killed my own mother..." his voice broke and his head dropped to his knees, which were pulled up to his chest.

Gibbs put his arm around Tony's shaking shoulders, "Your mother died of cancer, Tony. Not from the fall."

"She never came home from the hospital," he said through gritted teeth. "Her body was too broken to fight through that and beat cancer at the same time. I killed her... and I deserved the shit being kicked out of me by my father...I deserved every last..."

"Tony," Gibbs pulled him against his chest, his other hand comfortingly petting his head; much as he'd done for his own child after a nightmare. "You didn't deserve what he did. And it wasn't your fault what happened to your mother. Not your fault she was drinkin', and your father was absolutely out of his mind to ever suggest that you were to blame." It was then that Gibbs understood why Tony had always been so quick to take the blame for everything he had.

"I didn't mean it..." Tony cried, and Gibbs felt Tony's hands; one clenching the front of his shirt, and one at his shoulder blade. Then a sharp intake of breath after he'd silently sobbed all the air out of his lungs, "I'm sorry..." his hands clenched tighter at his boss's shirt.

"DiNozzo, you listen to me," he said more sternly, holding the agent as steadily. "You did nothing wrong. Nothing..." he told him. "You hear me?"

"Yes, Boss," he said between sobs, and he attempted to stop the emotional display. But Gibbs didn't seem to press that particular issue. Tony felt strangely comfortable in the position; like he finally had the comfort he'd only wished for as a child from his own father. So he relaxed against his boss's chest as he slowly regained his composure.

His sobbing had ceased; its only evidence remaining, the small quaking at the intake of breath from its previous intensity. Gibbs noticed, in fact, after several silent minutes, that Tony was starting to fall asleep. He smirked, pleased that Tony was no longer so upset, but not wanting to spend the night there on the floor. Gibbs shifted a bit, "Hey," he squeezed Tony's shoulder. "I'm too old to stay like this, Tony. C'mon," he moved to stand, "Get to bed," he helped him to stand.

Tony's eyes were bloodshot and drooping, looking defeated. Gibbs scuffed his hair before pulling back the covers. "Thanks, Boss," Tony said before slipping onto the mattress. His eyes slipped closed mere moments after his head hit the pillow. Gibbs smirked again before pulling the blanket up over his shoulders.

As he made his way from the room, he flicked the light off, and closed the door almost all the way. Gibbs picked up the fax papers from the table and retreated down to the basement. He placed the papers on the workbench before reaching for his bottle of bourbon and emptying a jar. He wiped it out with a shop cloth before pouring a small amount of the amber liquid to his satisfaction, and he sat down in front of the papers.

Gibbs looked hard at each photo on the page, and he imagined how he would feel if someone had done this to his own child. But Tony was like a son to him, and this thought had already been brewing in his mind. Seeing the photos again after the breakdown Tony had openly suffered in front of him, caused Gibbs' eyes to sting.

He ran a hand down his face and twisted so the tops of his fingers rested on his frowning lips. It was guaranteed Tony had had injuries far worse than these in his lifetime. But to think he'd suffered this kind of monstrosity as a child was overwhelming.

Jethro picked up the glass of bourbon and drank it in one shot before slipping the papers into the somewhat 'secret compartment' in his workbench. Then he slipped quietly up the steps, turning the light off once he got to the top. A moment of stillness to listen for any sound coming from the guest room, he heard a soft snoring, and was satisfied. He headed upstairs in hopes of getting some sleep before beginning what would be a long day at work tomorrow...


	10. Chapter 10

Gibbs awoke to the unmistakeable smell of freshly brewed coffee. Glancing at the clock, he realized it was only a few minutes past five in the morning; time to get up anyway. He dragged himself out of bed and make quick use of the shower before getting dressed and going to indulge in what the aroma was emanating from.

When he got to the kitchen, he could hear the sound of the guest bathroom shower, and he smirked; Tony apparently figured he was coming in to work today. The empty, used coffee mug in the sink told him the agent had been up for a while.

Gibbs poured himself some coffee and took a seat at the table, mentally preparing himself for the inevitable argument against Tony coming to work with him this soon. He heard the water shut off in the shower, and took a long drink from his mug before refilling it and resuming his seat.

After a few minutes, a dressed and dry DiNozzo came wandering into the kitchen. "Mornin', Boss," he said with a small grin.

"Mornin'," he returned. "Planning on comin' in to work today?"

"Actually," he took a seat at the table across from him, "I've got an appointment at nine..."

"Kinda early..."

"Yeah...thing is, Ziva's gonna give me a ride there, so I figured I'd come in with you; do some desk work to keep busy until I have to leave. If uh...if that's okay with you?"

Gibbs nodded then cocked his head, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Mind if I ask what kind of appointment?"

"My therapist threatened to drop me if I missed another session," he smirked. "I'm supposed to go once a week, and obviously I haven't the past couple. I just wanna see his face when I let him know I had a legitimate reason not to be there."

"That the only reason you're goin'?" Gibbs asked before taking another sip of his coffee.

"Figured I'd kill a few birds," Tony replied, vaguely, and looked down at Gibbs' mug. "Coffee turn out okay for ya?" he asked.

Gibbs nodded, "Not bad. Earnin' your keep," he smirked. "You hungry?"

"Thought I was when I got up," he replied, "But after the coffee, my stomach's feelin' kinda queasy. Think I'm still detoxing from the hospital food."

"Still a bit early, anyway," Gibbs said. "You ready to get goin'?" he asked as he stood to put his cup in the sink and switch off the coffee maker.

"Yeah," Tony stood, then followed him out the front door.

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"Hey, Tony," McGee said as the agent strolled into the bullpen, "I didn't know you were coming back to work so soon?"

"Miss me, Probie?" he painted his face with a toothy grin as he took his coat off and sat at his desk.

"I was," McGee replied with a smirk. "How'd you get here, anyway?"

"Rode in with Gibbs," he said. "He had to go see Abby...so where's Ziva?"

"Uh...she hasn't gotten here, yet," he replied.

"That's...a little odd, don't you think?" Tony squinted in Tim's direction. "She's supposed to give me a ride somewhere today. I just talked to her this morning."

"How long ago?" McGee seemed a little concerned now.

"0500," he replied. "I actually texted...not talked. Maybe I should call her?"

"Call who?" Gibbs asked as he entered the bullpen with a cup of coffee.

"Ziva hasn't gotten in yet," Tony told him. Gibbs glanced at his watch.

"She's not technically late, DiNozzo," he told him.

"For Ziva, she's late," he retorted. "I chatted with her almost an hour ago. She didn't say anything about running late. Got a gut feeling, Boss," he said with narrowed eyes.

Gibbs sat and set his coffee down as he considered the worried look on Tony's face. "You sure it's not the same feelin' you had after coffee this morning?" he smirked.

"Pretty sure, though it's strikingly similar," he replied. Just then, the ding of the elevator sounded, followed by the unmistakeable voice of Ziva David.

"Please, Sir, I told you it is alright. I am fine. Please just go about your business. Thank you for the ride."

"If you're absolutely sure, ma'am...you have my name and number. If you need anything, please... Again, I'm so sorry."

They all turned their gaze toward the sound of conversation between their team member and an unfamiliar voice, but the man never came out of the elevator. Ziva, however, looking a bit disheveled in her running clothes, was making her way toward the ladies room, without so much as a glance toward the bullpen.

"Ziva," Gibbs yelled loud enough for her to hear, and she paused, briefly closing her eyes; clearly disappointed she'd not been able to stealthily avoid them before straightening up. Her plans foiled, she abandoned her journey to the bathroom, and headed straight into the bullpen.

"What happened to you?" Tony asked when they saw the dried blood at her temple. Her clothes were dirtied and her hair, though pulled into a ponytail, was sticking out here and there.

"I am fine," she told him. "I was in the middle of my morning run...apparently distracted, I did not check both ways before crossing the road."

"You were hit by a car?!" McGee surmised, and they all approached her, visually checking her for injury.

"I told you that I am fine!" she backed away. "The cab driver was barely going twenty-five. I rolled myself onto the hood to avoid serious injury, and he insisted on taking me to the hospital. But I told him to bring me here."

"Ziver, you should've let him take you," Gibbs told her.

"I do not need a hospital, Gibbs," she squinted.

"At least let Ducky look you over," Tony suggested before Gibbs even had the chance to, though they were going to be his very next words. Ziva evaded looking any of them in the eye as she considered the suggestion.

"If it will put your minds at ease, then fine," she walked past them toward the stairs. Gibbs glanced at the two remaining agents before heading after her.

"Think she's okay?" Tim asked as they watched her and Gibbs disappear behind the stairwell door.

"Damnit..." Tony cursed as he maneuvered back to his desk chair. "This is my fault," he said, just loud enough for McGee to hear. Tim furrowed a brow as he studied his friend's face.

"What are you talking about? How is what happened to Ziva your fault?" he asked as he approached the desk.

"She said she was distracted," he explained as he looked wearily at Tim. "I asked her for a ride to my therapist this morning. She's been acting a little strange ever since we came back from Garrett County. I think it's because of something I said..."

"Tony, seriously?" McGee shook his head. "You didn't push her in front of the car. She wasn't paying attention. That's not your fault." Tony growled under his breath.

"We should stop that cabbie," he said. "He should've paid better attention-"

"Ziva would've kicked his ass if it'd been his fault," McGee reminded him. "Not only did she not kill him, but she let him bring her here."

Tony looked at him for a moment as he considered his words. "I guess you're right," he said. Then his eyes narrowed as he recalled the day before. "What'd you bring Gibbs yesterday, Probie?" he asked. Tim's brow furrowed again slightly.

"Uh...didn't he show you?" he cocked his head.

"Show me what?" he asked. McGee inwardly panicked.

"Maybe you should uh...ask Gibbs. I'm not exactly sure why he asked me to do the research, but..." McGee paused as Tony stood and closed the proximity between them. He was almost positive that Tony was going to go completely off the handle in that moment.

"It's okay, McGee," he said in a surprisingly calm voice. "I'm sure he was just verifying some things." Tim's focus wavered within the space between them. His eyes darted nervously back and forth. "So, what, exactly, did you find out about me?"

"Um..." he backed up a little, but maintained eye contact. "I found some medical records from when you were a kid," he told him, then swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Anything interesting?" Tony asked, sitting on the edge of his desk.

Tim looked down briefly before meeting his eyes again. "A report made out by your pediatrician," he began. "He examined you when your father brought you in, saying you'd fallen downstairs at home. But Ducky said the injuries were inconsistent with that kind of accident."

"What injuries were listed?" he asked in a flat voice.

Tim looked away for another brief moment before meeting his eyes again; his brow slightly, and unintentionally furrowed. "Bruised ribs, front and back; multiple contusions all along the right side of your body...I don't remember the rest, off-hand," he lied, for the benefit of his friend's privacy.

Tony nodded slightly before standing and maneuvering back to his chair again. "Think you can do me a favor?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, sure, Tony," he told him.

"Ziva obviously didn't drive in to work, and I still need a ride to my appointment..."

"Yeah, no problem. As long as we don't get called out..."

"If that happens, I can catch a cab," he said, then looked at Tim. "Thanks," he said, and McGee detected a hint of sadness in Tony's eyes in that moment. He turned back toward his own desk before sitting down in front of his computer. Tim wished he knew what was going on in Tony's head. He knew he must be conflicted; the lack of anger was confusing enough...maybe even disturbing.

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"I don't see any fractures," Ducky said as he put the x-ray image up. "But I do suspect you may have some bruised ribs."

"What about the cut on her head?" Gibbs inquired as he stood next to the M.E. Ziva listened quietly from the cold table where she sat.

"Nothing serious," Ducky assured them. "Though I'll change the bandage again later this evening, if you'll come back down to see me before you leave," he told Ziva.

"So, I am okay to work, yes?" Ziva asked as she lowered her feet to the floor and stood from the table.

"I'd take it easy with those ribs, Ziva," he cautioned. "Keep the cold compress I gave you, and keep it on as often as you can tolerate. Once it loses its temperature, you can come back for another. If you have any ibuprofen, you can take that for the pain."

"I have some in my desk," she told him. "Thank you, Ducky." Gibbs shared a brief glance with her before she turned to retreat the morgue. Once the doors closed behind her, he turned back to look at Ducky.

"Should I be worried, Duck?" he asked.

"About her physical well-being?" Ducky inquired. "She'll be fine, Jethro. I don't have to tell you how well she can handle herself."

"That's kinda what's got me worried. How does a trained ex-Mossad officer, a member of my team, become so distracted as to step out in front of a moving vehicle?"

"You make an excellent point," he replied as he pulled the images from the light and headed toward his desk. "I suspect she may have been thinking about what they'd all been researching yesterday about Anthony's past. She cares very deeply about the lad. She's, no doubt, concerned about him."

"I feel like I'm losin' half my team here, Duck. What am I supposed to do?"

"I couldn't presume to have the answer to that. But, I suppose if Tony would be willing to talk to them, it might settle the uncertainty of what they found. In the meantime, if I were you, I'd talk to the director about getting some time off for your team. Whether or not they believe they need it, I think it would be foolish to send them out into the field at this point. And that includes you," he raised a brow in seriousness.

Gibbs cocked his head, "You really think that's what was bothering her?"

"Well, the only way to be sure of that, would be to ask her..."

*~.~*

Gibbs pressed the elevator button and was surprised when the doors opened to reveal Ziva. She seemed a bit embarrassed that she'd forgotten to hit the floor button, but Gibbs was slightly relieved to have caught her. He entered and hit their floor, flipping the emergency switch after it had started to move.

"Gibbs, I am fine," Ziva told him with a glare. "Even Ducky has cleared me-"

"I know, Ziver," he said as he stepped closer to her. "What I wanna know is what distracted you. Was it about what you found when I told McGee to dig into Tony's records?"

Her eyes darted back and forth between his. "Partially, yes," her gaze dropped momentarily to his chest. "I am worried about him. He is still recovering, and now I am unsure what is happening with him."

"Tony has some things he's trying to sort out about his past," he told her. "But he's okay, Ziva," he said, and her eyes met his again. "I know you wanna help him, and so do I. I think we all do. But he's gotta be able to figure this out himself before he can start talkin' about it to us."

"Why did you have us look for the things we found?" she asked. "How were you so sure of exactly where it would be? Those pictures...his father did that to him, yes?" Gibbs narrowed his eyes. He didn't need to answer the question; they'd figured it out on their own. "Why has he never talked about this before?"

"He didn't remember it before," Gibbs told her. But he surmised that, this too, she'd already concluded on her own.

"The accident," she continued, "It caused him to start remembering these things, yes?"

"This thing," he corrected. "Happened once."

"One time is still too many," she said, and he cocked his head at her words; the same response he'd given upon hearing it from Ducky. "Why? Why did he do that to Tony?"

"Because he was a drunken imbecile," Gibbs replied.

"And his doctor never reported this..."

"Don't think he knew what really happened," he said.

"Surely Tony's mother must have known?"

"She was dead," he told her. "Listen, Ziver," he put his hands on her arms. "It isn't my place to tell you Tony's business. But I can't have you puttin' yourself in danger with your head clogged up in worry. Can't risk it happening again; not to any of you. I'm gonna talk to Vance and get us all some time off. Hopefully, Tony will be able to figure things out and let us in. But the last thing he needs right now, are more reasons to blame himself for things he had no control over. And if I let somethin' happen to you, or any of us right now, that's exactly what he's gonna do..."


	11. Chapter 11

"I can understand DiNozzo and David's need for time off, Agent Gibbs," Vance said from behind his desk. "But may I inquire as to why you and McGee need it as well?"

"Agent David was injured because she was distracted. I think we all might be, and I don't wanna take the chance of putting any of them in the field right now. We all need to work this through." Gibbs explained in hopes of not having to reveal too much.

"Distracted by what?" So much for that...

Gibbs took a breath, "The accident Tony was in, in Garrett County, jarred some repressed memory," he began. "It was traumatic enough to cause a seizure while he was still there. I ordered my team to do some research into his past, and what they found was...disturbing, to say the least."

"So they all know," he surmised. "And this is what distracted David and got her hurt?"

"That's what I'm thinkin', yeah."

"What exactly did they find?"

"It's personal, Leon. You wanna know that information, you'll have to ask him. If I could've avoided the rest of them finding what they did... Hell, I had them look for it on the off chance that it was a false memory. Didn't expect them to find what they did."

Vance sat silent for a few moments. "How much time are you lookin' for?" he asked, finally.

Gibbs cocked his head, "Not exactly sure how long we need," he said, "But we can start with a couple of days."

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"It's your fault she's dead, boy!" his father's words cut him like a knife, even more penetrating then the pain that surged through him as he was thrown back into the wall.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean it..." the child cried. But his father had no desire to listen to his apologies. Instead, he continued his assault, both verbally and physically. And Tony continued to plead for forgiveness... And before he knew it, he felt the stinging of his scalp as his father gripped him by the hair and began to drag him down the hall...

"Tony?" McGee's voice pulled Tony from his memory and caused him to look up at the agent who was now standing beside his desk.

"Yeah?" he questioned him.

"You okay?" Tim's brow was furrowed, and Tony became self-conscious.

"Why wouldn't I be, Probie?" he asked as he forced a smirk and a calm look on his face.

"You just seemed a little distracted," Tim replied as he went back to his own desk.

"Paperwork does that to me sometimes," Tony said as he glanced down at the files in front of him.

"Yeah, I know. But you seemed a lot more zoned out than usual, if that's even possible," Tim said with a hint of sarcasm as he sat and continued to study Tony's expression.

"That's why I like field-work, McGoo," he said without looking up from the file. "Keeps my mind too busy to think about irrelevant things..."

Gibbs stood silently on the top row of stairs coming down from MTAC, as he watched and listened to Tim and Tony's small conversation. Concern was clearly evident in the way McGee nervously glanced over at Tony also imperceptibly from his screen. But Tony's attempt to seem perfectly fine, wasn't fooling any of them.

As he started his descent, he noticed Ziva as she silently made her way from the ladies room back into the bullpen. She'd cleaned up and changed into some normal work clothes. Gibbs watched as Tony stood and went to her, asking if she was okay again, and visually examined the mark at her temple.

"Ducky took x-rays and said that everything is fine," she assured him. He searched her eyes, and she knew the look in his; guilt. "Tony," she placed a gentle hand on his arm, "I am fine."

"You eat yet, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked as he rounded into the bullpen, saving Ziva from further probing.

"Haven't thought about it, Boss," Tony said as he watched Gibbs go to his desk.

"Well, I'm outta coffee," Gibbs told him as he threw his empty cup into the trash.

"You uh...want me to make a run, Boss?" McGee asked. Gibbs looked over at him.

"No, we're all goin'," he replied before grabbing his keys and coat. The three agents glanced at one another before unquestioningly grabbing their coats, and following Gibbs to the elevator.

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"This is different," McGee said in a low voice to Tony and Ziva as they sat in a booth in the small cafe. "When have we ever done this before? I mean...breakfast...together in a restaurant, for no reason..."

"I do not recall," Ziva replied.

"That's because we haven't," Tony said. "Why do I feel like we're about to be grounded?" Tim smirked, and they watched as Gibbs returned to the table from the bathroom; just in time as the waitress brought their food.

They were all quiet as they surveyed the plates in front of them. Tony seemed satisfied that they'd made everything correctly; his eggs, scrambled; three slices of bacon and some lightly buttered toast. Gibbs watched the agent play the eggs around with his fork.

"Is something wrong, Boss?" McGee asked.

"Why do you ask that?" Gibbs looked at him where he sat beside Tony on the inside of the booth.

"Well, it's just that we, uh... I mean, we don't usually leave work to...uh..."

"Nothin' to worry about, McGee," Gibbs said as he picked up his coffee and took a sip. Tim looked down at his own plate, then, and picked up his fork.

"Shouldn't we have brought our gear, in case we suddenly get a call?" Tony asked.

"Won't be getting a call," Gibbs said as he forked a few fried potatoes. McGee and Tony gave him a questioning look. "Vance gave us some time off."

"All of us?" McGee asked with a furrowed brow. Gibbs nodded as his mouth was occupied with a bite of his food. "Oh," he decided not to question further. Gibbs looked at Tony, whose posture was a bit hunched as he stared blankly down at the untouched food in his plate...

"Eat your godamn eggs, Junior," his father told him at the breakfast table. He looked down at the plate in front of him.

"I...I don't like 'em this way, Dad," the child said. "Mommy makes them scrambled..."

"Well, Mommy's dead, Junior!" he yelled, "Thanks to you..." he stood and threw his own plate into the sink and stormed out of the room. Tony was left there, guilt overwhelming him. And since his father had left the room, he could cry silently, without the fear of ridicule...

"You just gonna stare at it, or are you gonna eat?" Gibbs pulled him from the memory. Tony looked up from his plate, and Gibbs noticed the redness in them.

"Guess I'm still not very hungry," Tony said with a facade smirk as his pushed the plate slightly away.

"Gettin' kinda close to your appointment time," Gibbs told him as he glanced at his watch.

"Yeah...maybe I'll uh...take it to go."

"You figure out how you're getting there?"

"Probie's gonna give me a ride," he told him, glancing briefly at McGee. Gibbs nodded.

"Gonna give him a ride back, too?" he asked McGee.

"Yeah, Boss. Not a problem."

"Okay. Ziva, I'll give you a ride home when we're done here," Gibbs told her.

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"You okay?" McGee asked the over-silent agent beside him in the car.

"Yeah," Tony replied. "Just thinkin'," he told him.

"You know I'm here if you...wanna talk about anything? Anything at all..."

"Thanks, Tim, I appreciate that," he said in a calm voice. McGee hadn't really expected the answer to be anything more than passive. But he did expect him to not actually talk about it.

"I mean it, Tony. Seriously," Tony looked at him, and Tim glanced in small spurts away from the road. "I know it's personal, but...you've helped me through a lot of my own personal crap. Even when I didn't ask for it. Actually, especially when I didn't ask for it," he smirked.

Tony matched his smirk, then turned his gaze back out the window. "You're a pretty good investigator, McGee," he said. "I'm sure you've come to a conclusion."

"If you think I'm out to solve the puzzle, that's not what I'm trying to do," Tim told him. "I just wanna be there for you like you've been for me...and everyone else on our team."

"Yeah, I've done so much," Tony laughed, "I practically have you all on suspension!"

"Time off isn't suspension, Tony, it's vacation time. And what makes you think it has anything to do with you?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he turned to look at him, the facade smile still in play. "Everyone is being affected somehow by something you all found that happened to me over three decades ago. Hell, Ziva was hit by a car! And no matter how you wanna sit there and explain how it's not my fault, it is. And that's not me trying to be self-absorbed, but I'm pretty damn sure she wasn't thinkin' about shopping..."

McGee wasn't sure how to respond to that. As he pulled into the parking lot of the therapist office, he opened his mouth to speak, "I-" he began, but Tony cut him off.

"You shouldn't wanna help me, McGee. You should help yourself, and get as far away as you can from me...I'm a walking disaster. Everything I care about, I end up destroying..." he opened his door as the car stopped in front of the building. McGee was dumbfounded by his words.

"Tony..." he said, and Tony paused outside of the door. "I'll be here when you get out," he told him...

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"Why did you take us to breakfast?" Ziva asked from the passenger seat of Gibbs' car. Gibbs cocked his head.

"DiNozzo needed to eat," he told her, glancing briefly at her. "Thought if everyone was there, he'd at least try to."

"That did not work out so well," she said with a raise of her brows as she held up the to-go container. "What is the saying? You can lead a horse to water, but you cannot make him drink."

"That's right," he said with a smirk.

"Of course it is," she said with a sigh. "The one time Tony is not around to hear it."

"Nah, you're getting better," he assured her.

"I know," she replied as she glanced over at him. "I have been here a long time now. Sometimes I just do it to cheer him up," the corner of her mouth turned up a bit. "I think it gives him great pride to correct me."

This earned a big smile and quiet laugh; quite a rare sight from Gibbs. "Don't ever tell him that," he said. And moments passed before the grin faded, taking Ziva's along with it.

"Tony is strong," she said as he pulled up in front of her building. He put the car in park and looked at her. "I know it is much different than the many times he has been hurt before. But like those times, he will get through this," her statement was more of a need for affirmation from Gibbs.

He narrowed his eyes before replying, "You're right; it's different. But I don't think it's so much about the hurt you saw it those pictures." Ziva furrowed her brow in search for further explanation. But he looked away briefly. "Go inside; get some rest," he told her, then looked back at her. "If you're up to it, come over to my place tonight. I'll...figure something out for dinner."

Her initial feelings to protest his halting of information about Tony, vanished, and her features softened. "You got breakfast," she said with a small smile playing on her lips. "I will bring dinner."

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McGee got back to the therapist building a few minutes before he needed to, and parked where he'd dropped Tony off, but let the engine run so it'd be warm when Tony got out to it. It wasn't long before Tony was making quick pace to the car and into the passenger seat. He quietly put on his seat belt, and Tim felt a bit awkward in the silence as he put the car back in drive.

"Everything go okay?" he decided to ask.

"Peachy," Tony replied flatly.

"You need anything before I drop you off?" he asked. Tony was silent. Tim glanced at him for a moment from the road. His arms were crossed around his stomach and he was hunched slightly forward. "Are you cold?" There was no reply. Tony was just staring at the dashboard, blankly...

"Did you actually see your mother fall downstairs, Tony?" his therapist had asked. And Tony thought back...

He'd been in the kitchen getting a glass of milk. He left it on the table to go back upstairs where he was supposed to be. He wasn't even supposed to be downstairs at all when his mother was drinking. But she wouldn't know...she never did.

This time, however, she had beaten him to the stairs. Tony hid behind the edge of the doorway into the kitchen when he saw her begin to climb the stairs. He had no idea why she was going up there, but there was a very slim chance he'd get up there before she realized he wasn't in his room.

He planned it out in his head; if she went to his room, he'd quickly jet into the bathroom and pretend that's where he'd been. But there was always a chance she was just going to go to bed, in which case, he would be home free.

Tony peeked around the wall to see if she had gotten to the top yet. What he hadn't expected was to see her slip, and with a yelp, begin a rapid, twisting backward somersault down the case. "Mom!" he yelled out, but was frozen...

Her unconscious body hit the floor right in front of where he now stood, and he watched his yellow toy truck make its path down the steps after her, and come to a stop at his feet. "Mommy?" he bent down beside her. "Mom, I'm sorry!" he shook her, "Please wake up!" he was in tears before he realized he should call for help...

"Tony!" McGee's voice pulled him suddenly from the memory that had sucked him completely out of reality. He turned to see Tim's concerned, almost frightened, face, and realized the car was pulled over. A sudden wave of nausea hit him, and his hands went flying to the handle to open the door, just in time for him to empty the meager amount of coffee and stomach acid onto the pavement outside.

McGee panicked, got out of the car and went around to Tony's side and pulled open the door all the way as Tony was finished vomiting. He crouched down beside Tony, "Are you okay? Should I take you to the hospital?" he asked, before realizing there were tears streaking Tony's cheeks. "Tony?"

"It's all my fault, Probie..." his voice cracked and his eyes closed before he dropped his head into his hands.

"What? What's your fault?" he asked with furrowed brow.

"My mother..." Tim barely made out the words as they were muffled, but he was confused and shook his head before closing the door and going back around to get into the driver side.

"Tony, I already looked that up," he said as he recalled the information they'd found. "She died of cancer-"

"She died because she was too weak to fight it," he replied into his hands. "Because I made her fall..." McGee swallowed, unsure of how to respond. He put the car back into drive and sped toward Gibbs' house. Tony seemed to regain control over his composure in that moment and sat up straight after swiping at his cheeks.

"Tony, I-"

"Sorry, McGee," he said in a much calmer voice. "I didn't mean to break down on you, there."

"Whatever you're thinkin' about what happened to your mother, it wasn't your fault."

"My shit, Tim," he said sternly. "She stepped on my toy and ended up falling downstairs, breaking three bones and getting a concussion..."

McGee thought that over for a moment. "You didn't plant it there for that to happen, Tony."

"It doesn't...really matter, does it?" he looked at him. Tim glanced briefly from the road to look at him.

"Do you honestly think anyone blamed you for that?" he asked.

"I know they did," he replied through gritted teeth as his gaze fell back onto the dashboard.

Tim glanced at him again, then to the road as he thought back to the records they'd found. It was only a few moments before he came to the shocking realization. "Oh my god," he let out a breath as his heart sank in his chest. "Tony, your father...he was wrong. What he did..."

"I deserved what he did, McGoo," Tony said flatly. "I killed his wife..."

"No!" Tim glanced at him with frustration, "You didn't do anything wrong! He was an idiot to tell you it was your fault!"

"Really, Probie?" he said with equal frustration. "'Cause he seemed pretty damned convinced otherwise! You saw the report! You saw what he did to me... All these years, I'd been pissed off about being sent off to boarding school, when in reality, it was a merciful act of kindness! He shoulda buried me right along-side her!"

"Seriously?" McGee said in a sarcastic tone, "You think he shoulda killed his eight-year-old son in addition to the smack-down he delivered?"

"Just drop it-"

"No, honestly, Tony," he continued. "If you really wanna get technical about it, it's really his fault for buyin' the toy for you in the first place. And let's not forget the bottle of scotch he brought home that the both of them didn't hold back from drinking. But I suppose that's somehow your fault, too, right?"

Tony opened his mouth to respond, but was quite frankly shocked that McGee had taken the conversation down the path he had. His mouth clamped back shut as he thought.

"You've been atoning for sins you never committed, ever since I've known you. But I never knew how far back it went, until now... How long have you felt this way?" he asked out of curiosity. "I mean, has it been on your shoulders this whole time, or did it just come to you?"

"I always felt like somehow it was my fault," Tony replied in a low voice. "But rediscovering what actually happened... confirmed it for me."

McGee shook his head. "He was wrong, Tony. I don't care what the hell he told you, or how you remember it... Unless you were standing at the top of those stairs and physically pushed her down, there's no way in hell you can sit there and tell me that you were to blame."

"Well, maybe I did..." he turned to look at Tim. "I'm learnin' knew stuff all the time. There's bound to be something in there to back me up."

Tim gave up. There was no way to win this argument, and Tony sure as hell wasn't ready to listen to reason. He was glad when they finally pulled up to Gibbs' house. Gibbs would know what to do... Right?


	12. Chapter 12

Gibbs had heard the car pull up outside, and abandoned his hand tools to make his way upstairs. He'd half-assumed they'd be coming in the door by the time he got to it, but as he glanced out the window, Tony was just getting out of the car.

After Tony shut the door and turned toward the house, his stance wavered and his hand shot out to support himself on the hood of the car. As Tim hurriedly made his way out to help him, Gibbs had made a quick pace out of the house toward both agents. "You alright, DiNozzo?" he asked as he took hold of one of Tony's arms.

"Fine, Boss," he replied breathily. "Just a little dizzy. Guess I shouldn't have skipped breakfast after all."

"Not to mention, throwing up whatever coffee you had as well," Tim said as he took his other arm. Gibbs shot him a glance that told him there'd be need for elaboration later.

"Hey," Tony shrugged his arms away from them, "I can walk; just had to get my balance. I'm good now," he tried not to sound as frustrated as he felt, and he made his way quickly toward the house.

Gibbs turned to McGee while they had the moment, "When?"

"On the way home," he told him. "He was out of it for maybe thirty seconds, when I was trying to get him to respond. I was asking him something, and he was just...spaced out. I pulled over 'cause I was worried something was wrong. And when he finally snapped out of it, he was opening the door and puking. Then he uh..." his eyes darted around for a moment before settling back on Gibbs. "He told me...his father blamed him for his mother's death and he believes it."

Gibbs nodded with a furrowed brow, "Well, now you know what's eatin' at him," he said.

"There's gotta be some way to convince him... We should find his dad and-"

"DiNozzo Sr had all the damn time in the world to apologize and tell him he was wrong, and he hasn't," Gibbs said bitterly.

"With all due respect, Boss... We have evidence against him. Shouldn't we find him and put him away for what he did to Tony?"

"Until Tony believes he was wrong, he's not gonna testify against him."

"Well then shouldn't we find him and kick his ass?" anger and frustration was clearly written on Tim's face and heard in his tone. Gibbs almost smirked.

"Think I haven't been considering it?" he cocked his head.

"I find it a little hard to believe you're not out there with your scope, tracking him down," McGee said.

Gibbs squinted at him, "Not my hit, McGee. That's Tony's call. You think he wouldn't be pissed if one of us went and fought his battles for him?"

McGee didn't know how to respond to that. Gibbs was right, but Tim's gut still screamed for the opportunity to avenge his friend. After several battles with conflicting emotion, McGee looked back at his boss, "How can I help him?" he asked.

Gibbs considered the question for a moment. "You can start by not doin' anything stupid," he said. "Tony's also a victim of abandonment, Tim. Best thing we can do for him right now, is be there; let him know how family is supposed to work. If he doesn't already know it, we aren't gonna give up on him." Tim nodded in acknowledgment as he glanced past him toward the house. "Come by later for dinner," Gibbs told him, and Tim met his eyes again. "If you're not doin' anything..."

"No...I mean, no, I'm not doing anything. Yeah, sure I'll come by. Should I bring anything?"

"Ask Ziva," he said before turning to head back to the house.

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Gibbs closed the door behind him, removing his coat; grateful for the warmth inside of the house. He glanced around as he walked, realizing Tony was half-curled up on one end of the couch; his eyes closed. But they cracked open when he heard Gibbs enter the living room.

"Sorry, Boss," he said sleepily as he began to sit up.

"You can sleep if you want," Gibbs said, stopping for a moment.

"I should probably go to the guest room..."

"If you wanna sleep on the couch, I don't care, Tony. Won't bother me."

"Okay," he said as he settled back down. "Just wanted to shut my eyes for a little while."

"I'll get you up when it's time for lunch."

"Thanks, Boss," he said, not wanting to argue about the fact that he still wasn't ready for food. Gibbs turned and headed back down to the basement, leaving Tony in silence to get some shuteye.

Tony was determined not to think about his parents. At least, for now...he needed a break from it; some kind of escape. Even if it meant thinking about the accident at the lake. The one other thing that had been on his mind...

The dream was eerily silent. He knew where he was; inside the car as it began to slide and teeter off the edge of the bridge. He tried to yell for help...knew he was still connected on the phone to his team. But the car fell...down into the water.

For a moment, everything stopped. It was dark...pitch dark and he wasn't in the car anymore. He was laying on cold pavement on his stomach, and he felt a cool puddle of water beneath him. Everything hurt...every part of him felt like it was on fire. But the cool water only seemed to make it worse, and the darkness terrified him.

Tony wondered for long moments, where he was. And he strained to hear; eventually beginning to make out small sounds. Some kind of machine kicked on. It was a familiar sound, though he couldn't quite place it in the moment.

He longed to push himself up off of the floor, but he couldn't move...it hurt too much. He began to wonder whether he'd actually lost the ability to see. Tony wanted to cry out for help, but something inside him was warning him not to make a sound...

*~.~*

Gibbs headed up the stairs and into the kitchen, glancing briefly at Tony's curled up form on the couch as he'd left it a couple hours ago. He hadn't noticed anything at that first glance, but when he'd finished making them both sandwiches and went back out to the living room to wake him, he saw the troubled expression that painted Tony's face, even in his sleep.

As he got closer and sat on the edge of the coffee table, Gibbs realized that Tony's breathing was shallow, and his hands were in fists crossed over his chest in front of him. He was, undoubtedly, having some kind of nightmare, Gibbs surmised.

He reached out to touch Tony's shoulder, "Hey," he said fairly quietly, but it was enough to pull Tony violently out of the dream. His eyes shot open and he immediately pushed himself up to sit, looking at Gibbs as if trying to determine that he was real. "You okay?" Gibbs sensed the redundancy of the question.

"Yeah," Tony breathed. "Just a...really weird dream." Gibbs narrowed his eyes, waiting a moment in case Tony felt like elaborating.

"You hungry yet?" he asked.

Tony's eyes darted around a moment before answering, "Suppose I should at least try." He waited for Gibbs to stand and head toward the kitchen before he stood to follow.

"So," Gibbs said as the sat across the table from each other with their plates, "How was your session today?"

"He went kinda easy on me after I told him why I'd missed the last couple weeks," Tony smirked before taking a bite of the sandwich.

"Was it helpful, I guess is what I'm tryin' to ask," Gibbs said before taking a bite into his own.

Tony tilted his head a bit before swallowing. "Talked about what happened in Garrett County," he told him. "Led into the stuff I remembered about my mom...didn't have much time to talk about it though," he took another bite of the sandwich, almost as if an excuse not to continue.

"How's your stomach?" Gibbs asked.

"Not gonna hurl on your table, Boss," he smirked.

"Good," Gibbs set his sandwich down and fetched a couple bottles of water from the fridge. "Ziva and McGee are comin' by with dinner later, if you feel up to it."

"Ziva's cooking?" Tony grinned.

"Possibly," Gibbs smirked at the unexpected response from his senior agent.

"Ziva's a good cook," Tony commented, and Gibbs nodded in agreement. "Not that...you can't whip up a good meal, Boss... This sandwich, for instance...very good!" he took a large bite. Gibbs shook his head with a smirk.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Gibbs watched out the window for Tony, instantly regretting having given in to Tony's plea to allow him to go for a run. He hadn't been running in over two weeks, but his bargaining tool was the fact that he was supposed to be getting back in shape to work. He said he'd be back in less than an hour, but it was getting close to that time now.

Gibbs fought the urge to try and call him just yet. The last thing he wanted to do was to make Tony think he didn't have faith in him. But he had to admit to himself that he was, in fact, worried. In hindsight, he thought he should've at least gone with him. However, at the time, he thought maybe Tony just wanted to escape the questions for a little while. Gibbs hoped that escape wouldn't also lead to more health issues for his agent...

Just before Gibbs readied himself to go out after him, he saw Tony come around the corner, and breathed a sigh of relief. Tony wasn't running, however. He held his zip-up sweatshirt taught around him, the hood tightly pulled over his head, and his arms firmly crossed over in effort to bite off the cold air. Tony walked quickly toward the house, and Gibbs went to the kitchen, fixing the agent a cup of coffee to warm him up once he got inside.

He heard him come inside, shut the door, and shuffle his way to the roaring fireplace. Gibbs came into the room with a smirk and Tony's mug of coffee; Tony was on his knees, sitting on his heels in front of the fire when he looked up at him. "I really hate winter," he told his boss. "Have I ever mentioned that?"

"Possibly," he handed the cup to him.

"Thanks," Tony took the coffee, gratefully. "Kinda hurts to breathe when it's so cold out."

"You got back in one piece," Gibbs said, cocking his head.

"One giant, frozen piece," Tony shivered before taking a long sip from his mug.

"You've survived worse," Gibbs reminded him, and watched Tony as he started to laugh, but started coughing instead. Gibbs squatted down beside him and took the mug; a mask of concern washed his face at the all too familiar struggle.

"'s okay," Tony said between coughs, "Apparently, ...swallowing and breathing... got confused for a second," he explained as he looked at the concern in his boss's eyes. "Really, I'm okay, Boss," he said as he pushed himself up from the floor. "I've got what...an hour before Tim and Ziva get here?"

"Twenty minutes, actually," Gibbs said as he stood.

"Oh. Well, I'm gonna grab a hot shower; thaw myself out before they get here," he smirked before turning toward the guest room.

Tony hadn't had the heart to tell Gibbs that he'd thrown up the sandwich he'd made him for lunch. It was part of the reason it'd taken so long to get back home. He'd run a fair distance before the wave of nausea hit him like a ton of bricks, and he was thankful no one was around when he leaned over the bushes to expel the contents of his stomach.

Luckily, Tony had brought a bottle of water with him, and he was able to rinse out his mouth before trying to walk back to the house. There were definite moments he'd considered calling Gibbs to pick him up. But he was too damned stubborn to do that, and the determination to get back there himself, outranked it.

He really was hungry, and if he'd not insisted on going for a run, he probably would've been fine. There was no reason to worry his boss further, though. Tony was more than appreciative for everything Gibbs had done for him, but he felt like a burden.

If he wasn't so damned scared to, he'd just go home and leave Gibbs in peace. But he wasn't ready to be alone yet. When he was alone, he thought. When he thought...well, things just didn't end well. If that happened without someone around to pull him out of it, he might end up doing something rash. And he didn't want to hurt anyone by hurting himself.

As the hot water of the shower beat down on his back, he closed his eyes and willed it to help him relax. Happy thoughts...happy thoughts... My family. No, not them; my REAL family... They were all right here. They were always right here...

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"Hey, Ziver," Gibbs said as he opened the door and took the large covered dish from her hands.

"McGee is on his way," she told him as they made their way to the kitchen. "He will be bringing bread and drinks."

"I know this smell," Gibbs said as he set the dish down on the counter.

"Slow-cooked beef with potatoes and beans," she confirmed. "I felt...like I should make this for him, since he missed it the first time." Gibbs smirked at the comment.

"Something smells good," Tony said as he came into the kitchen; his hair still a little damp from the shower. His eyes met Ziva's, "Hey, Zi. Feelin' okay?" he asked.

"I am a bit sore, but I have had worse," she replied. "I hope you are hungry," she quickly diverted the subject.

"I am, now that I smell what we're having," he said as he made his way toward the dish.

"Hands off," Ziva playfully swatted his hand before he could remove the cover. "We are still waiting on McGee."

"You can help set the table," Gibbs said, handing him a stack of plates.

"Sorry I'm late!" they heard McGee come in the door.

"Just in time, Probie," Tony said as Tim came into the kitchen. "Whatcha got there?" he set the last plate in its place before grabbing the bottle in McGee's hand. "Merlot," he grinned. "Now it's definitely a party."

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Dinner had been over for more than an hour, and the team was gathered in the living room, equipped with glasses of Merlot and humorous reminiscence of past cases. Somehow the conversation had gone back to fond memories of Agent Todd, and the prank she and McGee had pulled when Tony was lying on the floor behind his desk.

"Tony was convinced she was seriously interested in him," Tim told Ziva with a smile playing on his lips, "Right up until she dumped water on his head." Gibbs shared a small laugh with McGee at the recollection.

"Yeah, yeah," Tony glared, "Hilarious! She got water in my ear...wasn't nice at all." Ziva laughed through her nose, but then narrowed her eyes at Tim.

"Not a very nice way to thank Tony for saving your lives," she said.

"Hey, it's all good," Tony defended. "I've gotten my revenge on several occasions, haven't I, McGoo?"

"Overkill, I'd have to say," Tim replied.

"Yeah...probably," Tony snickered. "But don't worry; karma's a bitch, and it knows exactly where to find me." He hadn't meant to end the playful banter, but the room had suddenly become quiet. So he flashed the infamous DiNozzo smile, "Come on, guys...don't let me stop all the fun."

"Guantanamo Bay," Gibbs smirked. Tony glanced at him for a moment, squinting as he thought back. Then his eyes widened a bit.

"Boss..."

"Woke up to you shouting from the other room. Kate and I bust in, weapons drawn. You're standing there in your birthday suit, aiming at an iguana," he couldn't help laughing at the recollection, and the others, even Tony, laughed with him.

"With your weapon, I hope," Ziva confirmed, causing the laughter to reignite. But it stopped when Ziva winced and grabbed the side of her chest.

"You okay?" Tony asked her.

"Laughter is supposed to be the best medicine, yes?" she said with a smile, then stood. "I just need some ice."

"I'll get it for you," Tony offered as he stood, but she followed him to the kitchen. Gibbs watched them go, then turned to Tim.

"You good to drive her home, McGee?" he asked.

"Truthfully...maybe in an hour, if I stop drinking right now," he replied. "Sorry, Boss..."

"Better safe than sorry," Gibbs cocked his head. "You wanna crash here tonight? Getting kinda late." He watched McGee as he looked down at his glass with a smirk.

"It's been a really weird day," Tim said. "Never thought it would end with me getting liquored up and crashing at your house," he looked up at him, amused.

Gibbs smirked, "Means it was a good party, right?"

*~.~*

"Let me see," Tony said to Ziva as he handed her the cold compress. Ziva cocked her head and narrowed her eyes at him.

"It looks much worse than it is," she told him. But he didn't break his glare. After a few long moments, she folded, and slowly pulled up the side of her sweater. She watched his eyes go to the purple expanse of her ribcage; his brows furrowing at the sight. Then she quickly pulled it back down and placed the compress over it.

His eyes met hers again, "I'm sorry, Zi," he said, sincerely.

"It is not your fault," she said. "I should have been paying attention, like I told you before."

"How bad was it? What you found..." he asked, searching her eyes.

Her eyes darted back and forth between his, "I should go," she said, turning away toward the living room.

"Really?" his voice seemed betrayed and she stopped and turned back to face him. "Of all the things you've seen in your life, you can't tell me what you saw that had you so preoccupied?"

"I saw a hurt child," she replied quietly, "And a man who has not yet asked us to find the man who caused it."

"I don't need him to be found," he replied.

"Why not?" she asked in frustration. "After what he did to you...you were just a child."

"I was just getting what I deserved, Ziva," he said flatly.

Her brow furrowed as she shook her head in pure dumbfounded shock. "You do realize, that this is exactly the mindset of an abuse victim?"

"You don't understand..."

"Then help me to understand, Tony," she stepped closer to him.

"I deserved it," he repeated. "Just ask McGee..."

"I am asking you," she said. But Tony clenched his jaw uncomfortably, and she could tell that he wasn't going to talk. "I think it is time for me to go," she turned to walk back into the living room. Tony closed his eyes and hung his head.

*~.~*

"I can call you a cab, or you can stay here," Gibbs told Ziva as she grabbed her keys.

"I am not drunk, Gibbs," she protested.

"It wasn't a request, Ziva," he told her, then stood and stepped close to her. "Cut him some slack," he barely whispered to her. She met his eyes for a moment before nodding, then turned to go upstairs to the other guest room.

"I wanna see what McGoo brought you yesterday," Tony said. Gibbs and McGee looked at him where he stood in the doorway of the kitchen.

"Okay," Gibbs said, and McGee glanced at him with furrowed brow as he started toward the door to the basement. "Downstairs," he instructed Tony, and he complied by entering the basement door first.

He peered down the stairs and paused as something suddenly flashed in his mind...

"You wanna see how it felt, Junior?!" his father shouted, enraged, as he held Tony by the hair. "You wanna know what she felt when she fell, because of YOU?"

"No...please..."

"I told you to be quiet! Not a word! Not a sound!" he yelled. Then he let go of his hair and kicked his feet out from under him, sending him flying down the basement steps...

Tony's small battered body fell face-down on the cold, wet basement floor. Then everything went dark...and for a moment, he thought he'd passed out. But he heard his father slam the basement door closed, and knew he was simply leaving him there...to suffer alone, in the dark; without permission to voice his suffering...

"Tony," Gibbs took the agent's face in his hands. Tony was hanging onto the railing for dear life at the top of the stairs, seated unknowingly on the top step; his eyes, unfocused and darting around frantically. "Tony, you're safe. You're okay, come on," he tried to pull him out of the flashback as he sat beside him on the stair.

McGee appeared behind them, shocked by the sudden turn of events. "What's happening?" he asked. But Gibbs didn't waver his attention from Tony.

"Boss?" Tony blinked rapidly as Gibbs came into focus.

"You back with us, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, moving his hands to the agent's shoulders. Tony looked down the stairs again, and Gibbs felt him begin to tremble.

"He wanted me to...feel how she felt..." his eyes clamped shut as the tears came. Gibbs understood, immediately, what that meant, and felt his heart sink in his chest.

"Tony," Gibbs said in barely a whisper, moving his hands to pull Tony's from their grip on the rail. Tony allowed him to do so, and felt himself pulled into his boss's embrace.

He hid his face in Gibbs' shoulder; his body wracking with silent sobs. The only sound came from the sudden intake of breath that followed the sobs, "I'm sorry..." he cried before the silence resumed its place amidst the shaking.

Gibbs brought one of his hands up to the back of Tony's head, stroking it comfortingly, "It's not your fault, Tony. Wasn't your fault," he told him.

McGee backed out of the small space and back into the hall. He turned when he saw Ziva in the corner of his eye. She stood there, silently questioning what was happening, and he walked to her, pulling her farther away from the door.

"What is happening?" she asked in a whisper.

"Tony's father convinced him it was his fault, what happened to his mother," he told her. "That's why he won't let us find him. He takes complete blame for his mother's death, and gives his father pardon for everything he did to him..."

"And what is happening now-"

"He said...his father wanted him to know how she felt," he told her. "Which means, he...pushed him down the stairs, too..." Ziva straightened; her eyes focusing on Tim's chest.

"This is why...he was ashamed to explain it to me," she said, then looked him in the eyes again. "What do we do? How can we help him?" she implored.

"I don't know..." he replied; his eyes focusing elsewhere. He wished he'd had an answer. Seeing Tony this way was more than unnerving. It was hard to see; heartbreaking and inconceivable. There had to be something... some way he could help him. And if they didn't figure it out soon, they'd lose the Tony they knew...


	13. Chapter 13

"I wish you were right," Tony told Gibbs, quietly, as he gently pulled out of the embrace. He sniffled as he ashamedly swiped the tears from his face and stood. Tony descended the stairs, and Gibbs stood and followed him, knowing his agent wasn't dissuaded from his original mission.

Gibbs went to his workbench as Tony stood beside the skeleton of the boat, settling a hand on one of its ribs and letting his fingers glide a bit over the smooth surface. He wondered what his boss would name this one; his eyes wandering to the far wall of the basement as he thought back on all the other works he'd seen mid-creation in this very room over the years.

"I am right, Tony," he turned to Gibbs' voice, seeing him right beside him now; papers in-hand, held out for Tony to take. Tony met his boss's eyes before looking down at the papers. "I want you to think real hard," Gibbs told him. "If it'd been me...and my family," Tony's eyes shot to Gibbs'. "You think I would've done that to my daughter?" he pointed to the pictures. Tony's eyes scanned the photos; conflicting emotion washed his face.

"No, you wouldn't," he said softly. "But you're not him. You're stronger than he is."

"He's a psychopath, Tony!" Gibbs said sternly. "It's not about strength or willpower. What he did was completely psychotic! I don't care what the hell he thought; what he did and said to you was complete bullshit! And the biggest surprise of all, is the fact that you let him win!"

"What?" Tony seemed genuinely confused.

"You let him make you believe it was your fault!"

"I is my fault!"

"No, damn it!" Gibbs stepped closer to him, wanting desperately to smack him in the back of the head, but held back. "It's not! But he went on a mission to make you believe it was...and so far, you've let him win..."

"He didn't do it to convince me," Tony told him. "I didn't need to be convinced. And I tried...really tried to get him to forgive me," his voice cracked with the frustration in his words. "But nothing I did was ever good enough. And then he just...left. Dropped me off to be someone else's problem..."

"He left you because he was too much of a coward to admit he was wrong," Gibbs told him.

"No, he left me there because he couldn't even look at me anymore... Hell, I wanted him to hit me again," he said, and Gibbs narrowed his eyes in confusion. "At least then, he cared enough to punish me for what I'd done. But it got to the point he couldn't even look me in the eye...and that meant he hated me. He had every right to..."

"He gave up his right to his son's seeking of approval the moment he told you it was your fault! The moment he laid a hand on you!"

"The moment he stopped, is when I was no longer worthy of being corrected by him!"

"Son of a..." Gibbs gritted his teeth and held his hand tentatively behind Tony's head, ready to strike, but held back. And then he watched Tony's face change from anger to anguish.

"Don't..." his voice cracked. "Don't you stop, too," his eyes filled as they darted back and forth between Gibbs'. Jethro seemed confused by the request. "I stopped kidding myself that he'd ever give a shit again, a long time ago. But I don't think I could take it if..." he was stopped by a light smack to the back of his head, and the next sound out of his mouth was a sob; a sob of relief, rather than despair. And his eyes squeezed shut, forcing the build-up of moisture in his eyes to run down his cheeks. "Thank you," he said in barely a whisper.

Gibbs' hand landed at the crook of Tony's neck, "You don't have to thank me for carin' about you," he told him. Tony opened his eyes to meet his. "You've earned your place on my team. And there's been plenty of times I've had to knock some sense into ya, but I've never once stopped giving a shit, DiNozzo."

"Even when Jenny was killed?" he asked with a furrowed brow.

Gibbs cocked his head, "I cared a lot about Jenny," he told him. "But I never once blamed you for what happened. Not even for a second. The only person that blamed you, was yourself."

Tony shook his head, and Gibbs took his hand away. "How could you not blame me? I mean...at the time. I was the one who insisted we not tail her-"

"You were following orders, Tony."

"I used that order to ignore Ziva's gut. She knew something bad was gonna happen, and I ignored it."

"Doesn't mean you coulda saved her," Gibbs told him. "If you went after her, you both could've gotten killed right along with her."

"I know that now," he said. "I know it's not my fault Jenny was killed. She wanted it to go down that way. But I find it hard to believe that you didn't blame me somewhere in the back of your mind."

"Losin' Jenny hurt," he squinted, "But no matter how much pain that caused me, I never once thought about makin' you suffer any more than you already were."

Tony chewed on his bottom lip as he let Gibbs' words sink into his brain. His gaze drifted and he turned away, fixing his sight at the floor at the bottom of the stairs. He was beginning to understand the way Gibbs viewed what had happened. Tony's father was wrong to hurt him the way he did, but regardless of how his father had handled it, Tony couldn't let go of the guilt that plagued him.

"Do you remember everything now?" Gibbs asked. Tony turned his head slightly as he pondered the question.

"Think so," he replied, and resumed his gaze at the bottom of the staircase. "I remember watching my mother fall; seeing the medics come take her away... And I remember the funeral," his eyes shifted to the bottle of bourbon on the workbench. Gibbs noticed, and moved toward it, emptying two jars as Tony continued.

"I was still wearing my suit I'd worn to the funeral. My dad had shut himself up in his office most of the rest of the day. I was sitting in the living room, in my mother's chair. I could still smell her in it," he blinked and focused on Gibbs as he poured a shot of the amber liquid into each jar.

Gibbs picked them both up and held one out to Tony. He took a step forward to accept it, then sat down on the stool next to where Gibbs decided to sit. Gibbs stayed silent, taking a sip of his drink, as did Tony before he continued. "When he finally came out, he was pretty hammered. But no more than usual. It was pretty clear he'd decided what he was going to do before he even caught sight of me."

Tony looked down into his reflection in the drink. "After he pummeled me enough that I couldn't so much as hold myself up, he grabbed me by the hair and dragged me to the top of the basement steps," he swallowed. "Told me not to make a sound...take my punishment like a man. Then threw me down the stairs. Honestly didn't mind that part so much," he said, looking back up at his boss. "I felt like...that part, I deserved. Made me feel like I was somehow...closer to my mom again."

Gibbs watched him carefully as his gaze dropped back to the beverage in his hands. "Part that seems the worst, was when he turned the lights out. I was just layin' there. Our washer leaked a lot, so there was about two inches of water on the floor. I remember it was really cold. Wanted to get up; crawl over to a drier spot, but I couldn't move," he emptied the rest of his drink in one gulp, then set the jar down on the workbench. His eyes met Gibbs' again. "Eventually, I fell asleep. Next thing I know, I'm in my room and the family doc was lookin' me over. Dad told him I'd fallen down the basement stairs. Guess that wasn't a complete load of bull," he smirked. "Guess he ended up sayin' it so much, that I started believing that's all that really happened. He never touched me after that. Barely said more than a sentence to me unless he had to. The rest...is history."

Gibbs polished off the rest of his own drink, then set the jar down beside Tony's. "What was your mom like?" he heard himself ask.

Tony's eyes shifted in the air between them in thought. "She was stubborn and hard-headed," he smirked, and so did Gibbs. "But surprisingly naive. Especially when it came to my father. She could read me like a book, but with my dad, it was like she was...afraid of him. Or maybe she was just too hopeful. But she never spoke badly of him, no matter how often she could've had the chance. She'd drink to numb the pain, then pretend everything was okay. She thought," Tony paused to let out a small laugh, "She thought I didn't know she drank, 'cause she'd make sure I was upstairs when she did. But I've always been a pretty good investigator," he flashed a smile at his boss.

Gibbs nodded with a smirk of his own, and watched as Tony's grin turned into a yawn. "Past your bedtime, DiNozzo," he said as he stood.

"I don't have a bedtime, Boss," he replied, but stood as well and headed toward the stairs. "But I'll go, 'cause I'm wiped."

"Long day," Gibbs followed him up the stairs. "We'll talk some more tomorrow, if you want."

"Only if I get to hear some of your secrets," he smirked. Gibbs let out a small laugh as they reached to top.

"You don't even wanna know," he laughed...


	14. Chapter 14

Tony disappeared into the guest room and shut the door. Gibbs paused in the hall; his eyes focusing on the wall that separated him from the kitchen, as if he were Superman and could see through it. He smirked, then maneuvered his way into the kitchen, knowing what he'd find.

Tim and Ziva were standing there, a bit shocked and embarrassed to have been found. Gibbs crooked a finger and walked back into the living room. The caught agents shared a quick glance before following him.

"We didn't mean to spy, Boss," McGee barely whispered.

"Yeah ya did," he replied, and Tim swallowed. "You're both worried about him and you wanna help. I get that." They prepared themselves to be scolded, but saw no anger in Gibbs' face. "One of ya, crash on the couch," he said before turning to go upstairs. "You'll see why."

"Other than the fact there is only one more guest bed," Ziva commented quietly. "I will stay on the couch, McGee."

"Are you sure?" he asked with a furrowed brow. She nodded and gave him a small smile before going to the couch. McGee glanced toward the guest room where Tony had gone, then headed upstairs. "G'night, Ziva."

"Goodnight," she told him, then shifted to lay on her side. She knew, all too well, why Gibbs wanted one of them to stay there. And she would be ready if it should happen...

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

He walked down the bright corridor and into the room where his mother waited. She was sitting inclined on the hospital bed; her eyes were closed as he approached. But she knew he was there, and she turned her head as her eyes opened to look at him. She smiled.

"I'm sorry, Mommy," he told her with tears in his eyes.

"Oh, Baby, it's okay," she put a hand on the side of his face and swiped the tears with her thumbs. "Don't cry. You know what Daddy says," she smiled.

He smiled in return, "DiNozzo's don't cry," he told her.

"That's right," she pinched his chin.

"I love you," he told her.

"I love you, too, Baby..."

Light filled the room, suddenly, and he closed his eyes against the burning. When he opened them, he was standing over his mother's casket. He could hear the weeping behind him; but he held his tongue. 'DiNozzo's don't cry,' he remembered.

He looked at her still body, hoping it was all a bad dream. He wanted to hug her...wake her up. Just needed to reach out and touch her hand... But then he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. He knew it was his father. And he felt the hand squeeze tighter and tighter. He fought against the tears, not just for the loss of his mother, but the pain that hand on his shoulder was causing...

Suddenly, they were home; his body pressed frantically into a corner as his father struck him over and over... "You did this!" his father's voice was like fire.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean it..." he cried. "I'm sorry..."

"Tony!" Ziva gently shook his trembling body that had curled into a ball in the middle of the bed. He flinched, jerking awake at the sound of her voice. Then he froze as he tried to bring his body back into control. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his breath was still labored from the terror of his dream.

Then he felt Ziva's hand on his face, and realized she was wiping away tears he hadn't known were there. He shied away. "I'm sorry, Ziva...didn't mean to wake you," his voice was shaky, and he inwardly cursed at his weak display in front of her. He moved his hand to the one that rested on his cheek, intending to pull it away, but he found it oddly comforting; his hand rested over hers.

"You did not wake me," she told him.

"It's the middle of the night," he squinted.

"Which is why you should try and get back to sleep," she smirked as her hand lowered to his shoulder.

"I don't wanna sleep anymore," he argued as he pushed his back up against the headboard. She watched him for a moment, then propped back against the headboard beside him.

"You are worried you may have another nightmare," she surmised. He didn't confirm or deny, but his eyes fixed to the blanket that only haphazardly draped over his lower half. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Tony laughed, "I remember askin' you the same thing a while back." He saw her head drop a bit from the corner of his eye, and he turned to look at her. "I also remember feeling pretty offended when you didn't trust me enough to let me in." She looked at him. "So if you really wanna hear about my issues, I'll talk."

"I do trust you, Tony," she said. "I did not wish to discuss what was going through my head, because I was..." she looked back down at her hands in her lap, "Ashamed...I did not want you to think that I was..." her sentence drifted off.

"Human?" he narrowed his eyes at her and she looked at him again.

"Incapable," she corrected. "Of overcoming things on my own, and being able to resume my job."

"You don't think I can do that?"

"It does not matter what I think you can or cannot do," she told him. "What matters is if you think you can."

"I think it matters what you think," he replied. She considered his statement carefully.

"I think...you have been through many difficult things in your lifetime," she said. "But nothing shapes a person as much as their childhood. And yours has turned out to be...different then you originally thought it was."

"So you think it'll change who I am..."

"Perhaps," she began, glancing at his chest for a moment before looking him in the eyes again. "I spent my childhood being raised to believe that all people are a certain way; that love was irrelevant, and failure was unforgivable. These things, along with many other false ideals, shaped who I was when I first came here. But I have been...blessed with a new family," she told him. "And they have taught me many things that I would never have thought possible. They showed me that love can be real and unconditional; trust does not need to be continuously questioned once earned; and that forgiveness should never have a price," her voice cracked with the strength of her emotion, and Tony saw the unshed tears in her eyes.

"Zi..."

"But most importantly," she continued, "I have learned that I could have those things, and that I had the ability to give them as well. Even though my father, the man who I had grown up believing knew all things, had raised me with the belief that I would never have that...and that they did not exist. You helped me to believe the truth, Tony," she put her hand over his. "Whether you knew it or not, you taught me by showing it to me. Please let me do that for you...let us show you..."

Tony swallowed as he went over her words in his mind. And after a few moments, he replied, "You don't understand. Your father was training you. There was a method to his madness. Not that it was right, mind you, but there was purpose. He fed you with lies, and I'm really glad we were able to show you reality. But...my father had no reason to lie to me..." he looked away as he tried desperately to hold back from being overwhelmed again. "What happened was my fault. He may not have reacted well, but what he said... wasn't a lie."

She reached up and petted his hair, "It took me a while to believe, as well."

"What?" his brow furrowed.

"That my father was wrong," her eyes darted back and forth between his. He opened his mouth to object, but she put a finger against his lips, cutting him off. "Just sleep, Tony," she told him. "I will stay here and keep watch for nightmares," she leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"Why?" he questioned. "Why would you stay up all night for me, Ziva?"

"Because you would do it for me. And because you do not deserve them." She scooted down the bed and laid her head on the pillow. Tony watched her, seemingly confused, and she turned her head to look at him. "Well? You have been waiting how long to share a bed with me again, and you are not even going to sleep?" she smirked.

Tony laughed nervously, then slowly scooted down to lay on his back. "I guess as long as you're gonna stay awake, I don't have to worry about losing sleep."

"That is right," she said.

"Because you won't be snoring," he smirked at the ceiling. She narrowed her eyes at him, then playfully elbowed him in the side.

"Oof!" he laughed.

"I do not snore, Tony," she couldn't help but smirk.

"I'm sure there's actually videoed evidence. Not to mention, I heard it, myself," he squinted at her, and she glared. "Before you try to kill me for a cover-up, I'm pretty sure everyone on the team heard it, too." Ziva forced herself past the urge to retort, seeing the smile on Tony's face that had become such a rarity lately. She turned her gaze back to the ceiling after a moment. "Ziva," he said quietly.

"Yes, Tony?"

"Thanks." She turned to look at him, then grinned.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Tim drifted into consciousness, forcibly, via the insistent ringing of his cell phone. With an agitated groan, he reached over the side of the bed and fished it out of his pants pocket. "Yeah," he said sleepily as he answered.

"Hey, McGee," Abby said on the other line, "Were you sleeping?"

"Yeah, Abs. We have the day off. What's up?" he laid his head back onto the pillow and kept his eyes closed.

"I know you told me to stop looking, but I kinda... didn't listen."

"Abby..." he warned.

"Well, I mean, I did at first! But I started to look deeper into Tony's mom's health records and I found something interesting."

"Interesting, how?"

"Originally, we assumed her cancer was discovered after her accident. But I found records from a private office, stating she'd been diagnosed months prior to the fall. She just never tried to receive treatment. She knew she was sick, Timmy."

McGee sat up straight and opened his eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure! Would I have called you if I wasn't?" her voice clearly showed her offense.

"Is that everything?" he asked as he stood from the bed and slipped his pants on.

"For right now, yeah."

"Thanks, Abby. I'll...I'll call you later, okay? Thanks..." he ended the call and headed downstairs. To his surprise, Tony and Gibbs were in the kitchen having coffee. They both looked up at McGee as he entered the room.

"Mornin', Probie," Tony flashed a smile. "Sleep well?"

"Uh...yeah. Where's Ziva?" he asked.

"Went home," Gibbs told him. Tim nodded in acknowledgment.

"I just got a call from Abby," McGee told Tony. And his eyes darted back and forth between him and Gibbs.

"About what?" Gibbs asked.

"She uh...did a little more research on her own time," he started. Gibbs seemed a mixture of aggravated and curious, but said nothing as he looked at Tony for a reaction.

"Research into what, McGee?" he asked, flatly.

"Your mother knew she was sick," he told him. "She knew months before the accident, and she chose not to receive treatment." Tim studied Tony with a furrowed brow.

Tony's eyes seemed to focus somewhere in the air between them for a moment. "What?" he asked in disbelief. "That- that's not...possible," his brow furrowed. "Why would she choose not to receive treatment?"

"I...I don't know, Tony," Tim replied.

"Well...call Abby and tell her to call the doctor that diagnosed her and find out why!" he said as he stood from the table.

"Tony..." Gibbs warned, and Tony looked at him for a moment.

"Yeah, Boss...you're right. McGoo, tell Abby to give me the number. I'll call them myself." McGee glanced nervously at Gibbs, silently apologizing for having brought the information and causing the unexpected panic from their friend.

"Does it really matter why?" Gibbs asked Tony.

"It matters..." he said in a little calmer of a tone. "It changes everything; especially if my father knew," his voice cracked and he turned to leave the kitchen toward the front door.

"Boss, I'm sorry..." McGee said once they heard the front door close. Gibbs walked up to Tim, pausing briefly.

"Now you tell Abby to find him," he said quietly before resuming his journey after Tony.


	15. Chapter 15

Tony was standing on the porch facing the road; his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Gibbs silently closed the door behind him as he went to stand beside the agent. He was facing Tony's side, looking at the profile of conflicted emotion on his face.

"What am I...supposed to..." Tony stumbled over the words as if he weren't even sure what to ask. He turned to face his boss, seeming surprised he was standing there. "How am I supposed to feel?" he asked with furrowed brow.

Gibbs cocked his head; eyes darting around a moment before meeting Tony's again. "What do ya feel?"

"Pissed," he replied. "But I'm not sure who I'm supposed to be pissed at..."

"Long as it's not yourself," Gibbs told him.

Tony's eyes narrowed as they focused on nothing in particular. "I need to go talk to Abby," he said as he brushed past Gibbs.

"Why?" he turned to face him.

"Because I need to find him," his clenched his jaw and turned to face him. "I need to know."

Gibbs nodded, and McGee came out onto the porch, pausing briefly when they looked at him. "I uh...I'm gonna go help Abby," he told them.

"Take Tony with ya," Gibbs said as he made his way toward the door. "I'll meet you there soon."

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"Tony!" Abby turned from her computer when she saw him come into the lab, and she sprinted toward him to give him a hug.

"Hey, Abs," he hugged her in return. "Find anything yet?"

She pulled away and headed back to her computer with him; McGee following beside them. "I assume Tim told you what we found out about your mom?" she said, glancing briefly to him. He nodded as he looked at the screen. "I called their office this morning, and the doctor that diagnosed her retired. Her name is Angela Casset. They said they'd try to reach her and give her my number to call."

"What about my father?" he asked.

"Actually," she turned to face him, "I couldn't find anything," she had an apologetic look on her face. "But I got an unexpected call from the Director... He said he was gonna make some calls."

"Calls?" McGee cocked his head. "Like...calling in a favor?"

Abby shrugged, "Maybe. I haven't heard back from him, so I'm not sure whether he found out anything." Tony turned and headed out of the lab. Tim shared a worried glance with Abby before turning to follow Tony.

He was surprised to see him jet into the stairwell, but followed behind him, cautiously. "Are you okay?" Tim asked as he met Tony's quick pace up the stairs.

"Why wouldn't I be, Probie?" he replied flatly.

"You're takin' the stairs, for one," he said.

"Need the exercise, McGoo," he said, a bit out of breath as his pace quickly slowed. "Can't get back into the field...if I can't...even make it up the..." his sentence tapered off and he sunk down on the step, turning to sit.

"Geez, Tony," Tim sunk down beside him to sit. "I didn't realize you were this outta shape."

"Not outta shape," he defended. "I ran a few miles yesterday... I just... can't get my breath...for some reason..."

Tim furrowed a brow and took Tony's wrist, checking his pulse. "Your heart is racing. We should go see Ducky..."

"I'm fine," he pulled his wrist away. "Just gonna...sit here for a minute."

Tim watched, helplessly, as Tony rested his head on his knees. He thought about what must be going through his head, and came to a possible conclusion; Tony was having some sort of panic attack. "I...I know this has gotta be tough," he said. "And I know there's nothing I can say that'll make it any easier. But...anything you need, or if you wanna talk..."

"Thanks, McGee," he said in a low voice. "I just..." he sighed, "It sucks not knowing, ya know?" he pulled his head up and scratched his forehead. "I don't even know who do be pissed off at. Just when I thought I'd figured it all out, I'm thrust back into the world of unknown..."

"I stand by my original thought, which is that you should be pissed at your father. Either way the pendulum swings, what he said and did was wrong."

"But I wasn't pissed at him," he turned his head to look at Tim. "I was pissed at myself. And at least then I wasn't confused anymore."

"You...were satisfied with not being confused? Are you kidding me? Tony, you were never responsible for your mother's death. I don't care what the hell circumstances lead up to it; you should never have had that kind of pain thrown on your shoulders. Your father was wrong!"

"He might not have know he was wrong-"

"Tony! Seriously?" Tim stood, turning his body to face his friend. "Think about this for just a minute... If we got called out on a case and found a broken, battered little kid cowering in a corner, and you found out his father had done that to him, what would you do? What would your reaction be? Because personally, I'd probably shoot the guy. And if the kid told me that he deserved what his dad did to him, you think I'd just give him a pat on the back and call it a day?"

"McGee-"

"What if it was me?" he suggested. Tony looked up at him. "If this were reversed somehow, and it was me who went through this, what would you say? What would you think?" Tony focused somewhere else as he pondered what Tim had asked.

That's when he noticed a change in McGee's stature. His eyes were darting around at the stairs below them and he seemed to be lost in thought. Tony pulled himself up to stand. "Did...something happen to you, McGee?"

McGee's eyes shot to his, then back down, realizing he'd somehow let a cat out of the bag. He took a deep breath through his nose, then let it out slowly. "I never told anyone about this," he began, then looked back at Tony, whose eyes narrowed in concern. "You gotta promise you'll never say anything."

"Don't even gotta ask me that," he shook his head.

McGee took another breath and backed up till he was leaning against the wall. "When I was a kid, my parents decided to leave me with my aunt and uncle for the weekend, and take Sarah to see my grandparents in Nebraska. My uh...cousin...came home from college the last night I was there," he ducked his head and swallowed. "I was sleeping in his room..."

Tony felt a sudden churning in his gut as he surmised in his head what Tim would say next. He watched carefully as his friend began to fidget and push away from the wall some; discomfort suddenly making itself very known.

"He uh...made me...do some things..." he said in a low voice.

"Tim," Tony wanted to stop the poor guy's torture.

"Point is, I never told anybody," he said, straightening himself a bit and looking back at Tony. "I was embarrassed and ashamed. And I felt like it was my fault 'cause I was nice to him. Like he took it the wrong way... So I just let it go. Never went back to their house again, though. Thought I did the right thing...but then I overheard my parents talking one day, not too much later after that. They said he'd just been hauled off for molesting a little girl that lived next door to them. If I'd said something...if I'd just told them what had happened...that wouldn't have happened to her."

"You couldn't have known," Tony said. "You were just a kid..."

"And if you'd found me after that," he looked straight at him, "If you came into that house and found where I'd been curled up in the bathtub until dawn... If you found me, Tony, and I told you it was my fault what happened to me, would you have let me believe that?"

Tony opened his mouth, but couldn't find words, so he shook his head; tears forming in his eyes.

"When you're a little kid, you don't understand. We were just little kids, Tony," he felt his own eyes begin to sting with tears. "It's really easy to take the guilt onto yourself when you're that impressionable. But to have someone you're supposed to love and respect, beat that into you...of course you'd believe that. But we were both wrong..." he hadn't realized he was shaking until that point. And in that moment, Tony felt compelled to comfort his friend; he moved closer and pulled his shaking form into an embrace.

"I'm sorry, Tim," he said.

"The point of this was for you to stop being sorry," he said, instinctively hugging him back.

"I'm sorry for being sorry," he said, patting his back before pulling away with a slight grin. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Tim replied, forcing himself to calm. "Like I said, I've never told anyone that before. It's kinda...weird talking about it."

"Even after they found out what he did to that girl, you never said anything?"

"I...talked to a counselor," he said. "When I was in college, I started having spontaneous flashbacks. So, I decided to get some help. I've been fine ever since. Never thought I'd have to talk about it again."

"Well, I'm sorry I made you think about it," Tony said. "But I'm glad you trust me enough to talk to me about it." Their conversation was cut short as Tony's cell rang. He fished it from his pocket, glancing briefly at the ID before answering, "What's up, Abs?" he said as he turned to continue up the stairs

"I just got a call from Dr. Casset. She's gonna call you."

"Now?"

"Yeah, I just wanted to give you a heads-up."

"Thanks," he ended the call as he and McGee exited the stairwell and crossed through to the bullpen. McGee remained silent as Tony watched his phone, pausing in the middle of the bullpen. He almost jumped when it rang. "This is Anthony DiNozzo," he answered, absentmindedly walking out of the bullpen toward the window.

Tim sat down in his chair behind his desk, not taking his eyes away from Tony as he talked into the phone. He could just barely make out what he was saying, but mostly, he watched for any change of expression on his face. His attention was diverted, however, by the dinging of the elevator, and he looked over to see Gibbs walking slowly toward the bullpen. His cell was at his ear for a moment before he dropped his arm and closed it.

Gibbs was looking at Tony for a moment, before meeting McGee's eyes. Tim noticed something in his expression that made his own brow furrow. He knew something... and the way he had paused there, halfway between the elevator and the bullpen, alerted him that he'd come for Tony, and now he was simply waiting.

Tony closed his phone after a 'thank you' was uttered into it, and he met Gibbs' eyes. "That was the doc that diagnosed my mother," he told him, glancing around the room as if he'd just realized how many other people were there. He reached up and scratched the side of his head.

"Let's get outta here," Gibbs said, glancing briefly at McGee, motioning for him to follow as well. The three of them made their way to the elevator. Gibbs hit the button to the garage level and the doors closed them in.

"Doc said the tumor was inoperable," Tony told them, his eyes fixed on the door in front of him. "She refused treatment because it would've made her sick for whatever time she had left. She didn't wanna worry us. She just...gave up." He shook his head as if to move past it. "Wait...I have to go talk to Vance-"

"I just got a call from him," Gibbs said, reaching over to flick the emergency switch. McGee felt a churning in his gut as Gibbs turned to face Tony.

"Did he find him?" Tony asked, turning to face Gibbs. Gibbs nodded, but his eyes shifted in a way that Tony was familiar with...he knew what it meant. It meant bad news.

"Reno PD found him in a motel," Gibbs said, softly. "He'd checked in with an alias, but they found his ID."

"How'd they find him?" Tony asked. Gibbs took a breath.

"He prepaid for a ten-day stay. When he didn't come to check out, management went in to see what was going on." Gibbs was obviously having a hard time coming right out with it, and McGee saw it, clear as day. "He's dead, Tony," he told him. Tony blinked. "He shot himself. He's been dead for over a week..."


	16. Chapter 16

"But h-he..." Tony didn't know how to feel in this moment. He felt a pang in his chest and a stabbing in his gut; his head felt heavy and his eyes were having trouble focusing. "He can't be dead..." he said.

"Tony," Gibbs put a hand on his shoulder, but Tony shook his head.

"Vance is wrong. It couldn't have been him. They must be wrong..."

"They verified his prints," Gibbs told him. "They're transporting him to NCIS to be certain, but it is your father, Tony."

"How? How can you be sure?" he backed away.

"Vance wouldn't have called me if he hadn't been sure-"

"Why would he kill himself?" Tony's eyes darted around, meeting briefly with McGee's, then back to Gibbs. "Did he leave a note?"

"They didn't find one," Gibbs told him.

"Then how are they so sure he killed himself? He could've been murdered..."

"No other prints were found at the scene. It was his own weapon, and it was still in his hand when they found him," Gibbs had kept his voice calm and collected, but Tony suddenly crumbled in front of them...

It started with his back hitting the corner of the elevator, and he allowed himself to sink to the floor. "How am I supposed to ask him, now?" he said, his voice thick with the emotion he was trying desperately to keep from showing. Gibbs knelt down in front of him, glancing up at McGee, signaling him to restart the elevator.

"It's not important anymore," Gibbs told him. Tony's eyes shot to his; hurt and anguish written clearly in them.

"Not important?" his voice cracked. "My whole life...every moment after my mother's death, he's always blamed me. He died believing that I killed her!" The elevator sprang back to life, and Tony's eyes met McGee's for a moment. Tim seemed just as upset...

"Maybe not," Tim said, trying to reassure him.

"Well, I'll never know that, now...will I, McGoo?" he ducked his head as his eyes closed against the stinging. Tim felt sick...

The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. "C'mon, Tony," Gibbs stood and held a hand down for Tony. With robotic motions, Tony grabbed his hand and pulled himself up. "You gonna be okay?" he asked with narrowed eyes. Tony simply nodded. Gibbs looked him over once more before turning to McGee. "Take him to my place," he told him. "Stay with him. There's somethin' I gotta do, and then I'll be home."

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Tony's head rested against his window on the passenger side. The cold felt somewhat soothing against his throbbing temple. He couldn't help visualizing his father holding his gun to his head and pulling the trigger. He wondered why...what reason... Then a sickly image of what his body must have looked like when they'd found it...

"Tony, I'm so sorry," McGee pulled him from his thoughts, but Tony remained in the same position.

"Yeah," he replied in barely a whisper. "Me too." McGee kept glancing over at his friend, unsure what to say that would be of any help. "I should be relieved, right?"

"What?" Tim furrowed a brow.

"Aren't you?" he asked, turning his head to look at him with narrowed eyes.

"You mean, relieved that he's dead?"

"After what he did...you said it, yourself..."

"I said he was wrong!" he defended.

"You woulda shot him, if it was you who found me-"

"Tony, stop putting words into my mouth! I know this isn't what you wanted. I know you needed to ask him things... "

"And now I can't," he looked away again.

"And I'm sorry... I'm in no way relieved. In fact, I'm kinda pissed off he got off that easy..." he bit down on his tongue, regretting having said those last words. But Tony didn't retort as he'd imagined. He remained silent, for a few moments anyway.

"Can you swing by my place for a minute?" he asked without looking away from the window.

"Uh...yeah, sure," he decided not to ask what for.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"What is he gonna do, Gibbs?" Abby asked, worriedly, as she paced the small space in front of her computers. "Now he won't be able to get the closure he needs...who knows how this is gonna affect him? Gibbs, what's gonna happen to him?"

"Abby!" he grabbed her arms to stop her pacing. "I don't know, okay? But I didn't tell you so you would freak out on me. That's the last thing he needs."

"I know...I just..." her eyes darted back and forth between his before she lunged her arms around him. "Tell me he's gonna be okay..."

"He will be," he told her, unsure of the actual answer to that. She pulled away.

"What do I need to do?"

"Figure out what 'Jack Webber' was doin' before he checked into that motel."

"Jack Webber?" she cocked her head.

"That's the alias DiNozzo Sr. used," he said as he made his way out of the lab. He'd already given Ducky a heads-up on the body being delivered, and there was only one more stop he needed to make.

The trip to the bullpen was quick and short; picking up the few pieces of mail he'd seen on his desk earlier before leading Tony and Tim to the elevator. As he walked out of the bullpen, he shuffled through the mail, pausing briefly before entering the elevator when he saw an envelope with an interesting return address.

Gibbs pressed the button to the garage and looked back down at the envelope. It was addressed to him; sent, according to the postage stamp, from Reno, Nevada. After tucking the rest of the mail into his coat pocket, he turned the envelope over and opened it. Inside, was another sealed envelope; a sticky-note on the outside with scribbled writing...

Agent Gibbs,

I'm sending this to you because I have a feeling my son would toss this out without opening it. I hope that you can convince him to accept the letter. It's important that he sees it. It's been a long time coming...

Thank you.

A.D, Sr.

Gibbs took a breath as the doors opened and he stepped out toward his car. He tapped the envelope against his hand a few times before getting into the driver's seat. He contemplated opening and reading it before giving it to Tony, but something in his gut told him that he'd be pissed if he did.

As he started the car and pulled out of the lot, he couldn't help but to ponder what Abby had said. He didn't have answers for what the future held for Tony. But he'd do everything in his power to make sure he'd come back from this. He just needed to know how to go about making that possible...

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"I'll just be a minute, Probie," Tony said as he got out of the car.

"You sure you don't need any help?" McGee asked.

"I'm good," he shut the door and jogged up toward the building. He entered his apartment hurriedly, getting out of the cold as quickly as possible. As he shut the door, he became aware that he wasn't sure why he'd even asked to be brought there.

Tony visually scanned over the apartment, decidedly heading toward the kitchen, and opened the fridge. As he suspected, there was nothing there but a few bottles of beer. He grabbed one, attempting to twist off the cap. But he didn't realize his hands were shaking, and he lost his grip, sending it crashing to the floor.

Suddenly, a fire of anger burned in him, and he couldn't stop the rage that flowed through his body. Unfortunately, he lashed out on the blender, picking it up and hurling it across the room. It hit the wall, shattering before it fell in pieces to the floor...

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Tim was getting anxious. It'd been five minutes since Tony got out of the car, and it was starting to worry him that he still wasn't back. Nervously, he exited the car and made his way toward the building. As he approached the apartment, he slowed. The thought of how Tony might react when he figured out he was checking up on him, made him hesitate.

But then he heard a crash, followed by Tony yelling... Pulling his weapon, McGee forced his way into the apartment, uncertain as to what might be going on. His heart was racing... "Tony?" he scanned the destruction as he walked further in. The entire placed looked ransacked.

"Let's go," Tony came suddenly into his view, startling him.

"Tony, what the hell happened?" he asked, holstering his gun.

"Nothing," he brushed past him, and Tim noticed Tony's bloodied hand.

"What the hell, Tony?"

"Just drop it, McGee!" he turned to him; pure frustration written all over his face. Tim swallowed as his eyes darted around nervously.

"Okay..." he told him. Tony looked at him for a couple moments before turning back around and heading out the door...

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"Sorry I yelled, Tim," a more submissive Tony told him in a low voice as his friend handed him an ice pack for his hand. McGee sat down next to him on Gibbs' couch.

"Does this mean you'll tell me what happened?" he asked.

"Just got really pissed off outta no where. I think I knew it was gonna happen... It's why I had you take me by my place. Better to destroy my apartment, than Gibbs' place," he smirked.

"So what happened to your hand?" he asked as he gathered the bloody cloth from the coffee table.

"Ran outta stuff to throw... punched through the wall in my bedroom. Pretty sure I won't be getting my deposit back..."

"You should let Ducky take a look at it," Tim suggested. "It could be broken."

"Nah, it's fine. Nothin' to worry about."

"What's not to worry about?" they both turned their heads toward Gibbs' voice as he entered the living room.

"Hey, Boss," Tony grinned. "Didn't hear you come in..."

"What'd you do to your hand?" he asked with a slightly furrowed brow as he headed toward him.

"Had a little run-in with a belligerent section of dry-wall at my place," he smirked. "I kicked its ass...no worries."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes, but decided to let it slide for now. "McGee, can you go pick somethin' up for lunch?" he asked, glancing at him before sitting down on the other side of Tony.

"Yeah, sure. Uh...any preferences?" Gibbs shrugged, as did Tony. "Right...I'll figure something out..." he quickly made his way to the front door. As they heard the door close, Gibbs seemed to tense up.

"Okay, Boss," Tony said. "Why'd you make Probie leave?" he looked over at him. "More bad news?" Gibbs shook his head and reached into his coat pocket, retrieving the envelope and flipping it absentmindedly in his hands.

"Got some mail at my desk on my way out," he told him. "Your father sent me something, askin' me to make sure you got this," he handed it to him. Tony met Gibbs' eyes before taking the envelope.

He glanced down at the envelope, Gibbs' name scribbled on the front, and the post stamp. "This was stamped ten days ago," Tony realized out loud, and pulled the second envelope from inside. He didn't even realize that his breath had quickened, until he felt his heart pounding in his chest... Suddenly, he felt like he needed to get out of there.

He pushed himself up off of the couch, clinging to the envelope with his good hand, and scratching his head with the battered one. Gibbs watched as his agent hesitated and squirmed in place. "You okay?" he asked.

"I'm uh...gonna go out on the deck... get some air," he said, and walked out toward the back door. Gibbs stood after Tony walked onto the deck, leaving the door open. It was an invitation for his boss to follow, but he stood at a distance as he watched Tony open the letter.

Tony's hand was shaking as he unfolded the single sheet of paper...

Son,

I can't even begin to tell you how much I've screwed up. Everything... this whole time. I was wrong, even when I didn't know. It's why I sent you away in the first place. I had no right to do what I did. Sometimes I wonder if you even remember. But part of me hopes you don't.

Either way, I want to tell you that I'm sorry. I was wrong. On so many levels, I was wrong. It wasn't your fault. No matter how it happened, it was never your fault, and I'm a monster for what I did. If it's anyone's fault, it was mine. Everything I've tried to do since, has been in effort to somehow give you something back, but I couldn't even do that right.

But I found something out a few weeks ago that I never knew, and I've found it very difficult to live with. I want you to know that whatever happens, this was my decision and it's not got anything to do with you. You should know by now, I run away from my problems... you were never a problem, Junior. I was the problem, and I can't run away from myself. Well, I didn't think I could... but I know how to, now.

By the time you get this, I won't be a problem for you anymore. I'm hoping, actually, that enough time will have passed before they find me, that they won't need to send me your way. I want to be cremated. But you can decide what you want to do with me... I owe you that much. There's just enough in my account to cover whatever you need to do. I wish there was more there for you...

I've always been a coward, Son... I just never realized it until now. I'm sorry. You deserved a better father than what I've been. But I take one comfort, and that is the fact that YOU are nothing like me. I hope you can take comfort in that as well. It may not mean much now, but I love you.

Until the next life...

-Your dad

Tony folded up the paper and stuffed it neatly back into the envelope, ignoring the blurring vision caused by the build-up of unshed tears. He heard Gibbs come out onto the deck and he turned toward him without looking up, and held the envelope out to him, "This is evidence," his voice cracked. "It's his suicide note."

Gibbs gently took it from him, fitting it into his pocket without looking away from his agent. He stepped closer to him as Tony's stance wavered, and clearly indicated he was trying desperately not to break down in front of him. Gibbs reached out and placed his hands on Tony's shoulders.

Upon the feeling of Gibbs' comforting hands, Tony crumbled... He couldn't even control it; the sobs took him over; quaking beginning on the very place Gibbs held, and Tony felt himself pulled into his boss's embrace.

There was no apologizing; no hesitation. Tony's hands were at Gibbs' back, holding onto him as if he were the only thing keeping him standing, in that moment. His face at his shoulder, turned away only so he wasn't crying into his ear, unashamedly.

Gibbs could only hope that this was a good sign; that the note had told him what he'd needed to hear. The sounds coming from deep within his agent, weren't of sorrow, but of release. They were much different from what he'd heard and felt this past couple of weeks. If he had to stand there with him for the rest of the day, he would. If it'd help him come back to them, Gibbs would stay for as long as Tony needed.

As Tony felt he'd run out of tears and strength, he began to realize the symbolism in what was happening; His father had finally released him... and he left him in the arms of the man he'd always wished his father would be. But he'd always been there... And he had always accepted him. The world that had seemed so utterly filled with anguish and confusion, became clear and hopeful...

They separated at the same moment; Gibbs carefully watched his agent's face as he swiped his damp cheeks with his unharmed hand. He met Gibbs' eyes, "Thanks, Boss," he said with a slight smirk.

Gibbs returned the smirk, bringing a hand up to gently pat the side of Tony's face, "You're gonna be okay, DiNozzo," he told him, then gently squeezed his shoulder before turning to go back into the house.

For the first time in weeks, Tony believed it...


	17. Chapter 17

24 hours later...

Tony rode in the elevator with Ziva down to autopsy, leaning up against the wall on his side. An unspoken glance of comfort came his way from Ziva as the doors opened. He pushed up from the wall and exited the elevator; Ziva following close behind him.

As the doors hissed open, Gibbs and McGee turned around from where they stood beside the body on the cold table. Although this was supposed to be a verification of the identity of the body, they were all certain of the answer. It was clear from the looks on his colleagues' faces.

Ducky and Jimmy stood behind the table with apologetic looks directed at Tony as he approached. He looked down to the open body-bag, at his father's face. It was as he'd expected; pale and lifeless... but he'd been cleaned up, and for that, Tony was grateful.

A few moments passed before he realized they'd been expecting an answer from him, and he glanced up at Ducky, then to Gibbs. "Can I have a minute?" he asked in a low voice. And from the corners of his eyes, he saw them all systematically disperse, feeling Gibbs' hand pat his shoulder; McGee's did the same to his other.

When he heard the doors finally hiss closed for the last time, he took a breath. "You shoulda talked to me," he told the body that was his father. His eyes darted over the pale skin and closed eyes. "Should've given me a chance to reply. But you're right; you're a coward," he clenched his jaw. "You were a selfish, cowardly son of a bitch... but I loved you," his voice cracked as a lump grew in his throat and tears stung his eyes. "And I forgive you, Dad," he drew in a shaky breath as he touched his hand to the top of his father's head.

After a moment, he removed his hand and reached for the zipper of the body-bag, and slowly closed it. Taking another deep breath, he backed away slightly, then turned to walk toward the door. "Bye, Dad," he said quietly...

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Epilogue

Two days later...

"Tony's in Rhode Island?" McGee asked his boss from where he sat at his desk.

"Droppin' off his father's ashes," Gibbs told him.

"He didn't want anyone to go with him?"

"Said he needed to do it on his own," he replied. Tim nodded and looked back down at his computer screen.

"He took a plane," Ziva elaborated. "He will be fine, McGee." He glanced up at her and saw the faint smile on her face despite the corrective tone, and he nodded in appreciation.

A ding from the elevator caught Tim's attention and he watched as Tony walked out toward the bullpen. He was looking at the floor at first; dressed in black slacks and a black turtleneck, topped with a black dress-coat. It had been a while since Tim could recall seeing him wear a turtleneck... and it seemed odd that he was even thinking about that fact.

"That was fast," Gibbs said, and Tim saw that Gibbs noticed Tony walk into the bullpen. Tony looked up at him.

"Wasn't there to see the sites, Boss," he replied with a smirk. "Workin' on a case?" he asked as he made his way to his desk chair.

"Nope," he replied. "Gettin' ready to head out," he closed a folder and put it in a drawer.

"It's only 1900... kinda early for you," Tony said.

"Only if there was a case," he retorted. "Need a ride?"

"Yeah," he replied, glancing at Tim for a moment.

"How'd you get here?" McGee asked.

"Cab. My car's still in the shop, and they're hesitant to give me another loaner. Can't say I blame them," he smirked.

"Shouldn't be drivin' yet anyway," Gibbs said as he threw on his coat. "You can go home, too," he told the other agents.

"How did everything go, Tony?" Ziva asked as she stood from her desk.

Tony cocked his head, "Wasn't much to it. Just dropped his ashes off to be buried next to my mom's plot."

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm good, Zi," he gave her a smile. "Could go for a drink, though," he turned toward Gibbs. "Feel like stoppin' for a beer or somethin', Boss?"

Gibbs cocked his head, "Got beer at home," he said. "Among other things."

"Can I bring friends?" Tony smirked. Tim and Ziva came up on either side of Tony, giving unnecessary puppy-dog eyes to their boss.

Gibbs shook his head with an amused grin, then turned toward the elevator, "Come on," he called. They all happily piled into the elevator with Gibbs as he pressed the garage level button.

"Before we all get plastered," Tony said with a mischievous grin, "I just wanted to let you all know I love ya...ya know, before I say it when I'm drunk."

"So, you're gonna say it when you're drunk, too?" McGee smirked.

"At least twenty-five times, Probie," he grinned. "Sure you don't wanna change your mind, Boss?" he asked.

"Not really," he raised his brows.

"I have my handcuffs if he should get out of line," Ziva smirked.

"Oh, really?" the corner of Tony's lips turned up with a suggestive tone in his voice. But it was quickly wiped off with a swift tap to the back of his head. "Sorry, Boss," he straightened. "I'll behave."

Ziva laughed through her nose, causing Tony to make a face at her. Gibbs smirked...

 

Fin


End file.
